Homeless Boy
by LPphreek
Summary: AU. Vegeta crash landed on Earth when he was eleven and stayed with the Briefs for months. After his return to Frieza, his stay has a lasting impact on the entire course of their lives. When they are reunited, the past continues shaping their future.
1. Meeting

Disclaimer: I do not now, nor will I ever, own Dragonball Z. It belongs to Akira Toriyama.

Meeting

Curiosity killed the cat. Good thing for Bulma Brief she wasn't a cat. Infinitely, insatiably curious girl that she was, she couldn't help but notice – and become intrigued with – the very strange boy she saw on the street one cloudy spring afternoon. She was on her way home from middle school when she saw – no, felt – the boy's dark gaze following her as she skipped along the bustling sidewalk. But when she turned to see who was watching, he immediately took his eyes off her and ducked into a nearby alley.

Needless to say, her interest was piqued. She looked from side to side before taking a deep breath and running over to the alley. She was shocked to find it deserted, considering there was no other way out than the one she came in. She turned in a circle, looking around, and fell backward when the boy appeared right in front of her seemingly out of nowhere. She yelped and rubbed her aching backside as she stood up and smiled brightly at the reason she had wandered into a dark alley.

"Hi there!" she greeted him cheerfully and held out her hand for him to shake. "My name is Bulma, what's yours?"

The boy glanced at her outstretched hand before batting it away with a sneer that made him appear years older than he was. Bulma shook the tingling sensation out of her hand. 'What's his problem?' she wondered angrily. 'I was just trying to be nice!'

He snorted when she fixed a sullen glare on him. Why such a weak, pathetic little human girl thought she could intimidate him he couldn't fathom. He likewise couldn't figure out why she tried following him. 'She must be incredibly stupid,' he concluded with a mental shrug.

Had she known what he was thinking she would have been very indignant. She was Bulma Brief! At the tender age of nine she had already skipped three grades in school and the whole world lauded her as a child prodigy in mechanical engineering, the next great genius to grace the world. It could only be expected; after all, her father _was_ the great Dr. Brief, inventor of the DynoCaps and founder of the booming Capsule Corporation.

After her short moment of speechlessness at the stranger's rude behavior, she stamped her foot and planted her hands on her hips. She grew angrier when he looked less than impressed with her oncoming tantrum.

"Look, I don't know what your problem is, but around here's it's polite to shake hands when a girl introduces herself, you little creep!" she raged. "What do you think you're laughing at, bud?"

The raven-haired boy couldn't help but laugh at the human girl's temper. Weak, but a spitfire. Still not worth his time though. He laughed harder as her face flushed red with her rising fury. 'She must really think she's something special,' he mused.

"Do you _know_ who I am?" she screeched.

His laughter stopped abruptly as he cringed and covered his sensitive ears. He revised his earlier evaluation of the girl: Weak, but loud enough to kill. He didn't appreciate the smug expression plastered on her face. He scowled at her.

"Do you know who _I_ am?" he replied icily in Saiya-go.

Bulma's eyebrow rose. She'd never heard _that_ language before. She couldn't even recognize what it was. She slapped her hand over her mouth when realization dawned on her. He didn't speak her language and probably didn't know her customs! Maybe _she_ had been acting rudely to _him_! Embarrassed, she blushed and hung her head as she stuttered out an apology.

The boy rolled his eyes. He didn't want her apology. He could understand most of what she said, but that didn't mean he had to let on to that little tidbit of information. After spending over a month in the city, he'd easily picked up the language. It was actually pretty simple compared to some of the others he'd learned.

In an attempt to rectify the situation, Bulma put her hand on her chest and enunciated slowly and clearly, "My name is Bulma. Bul-ma." Then she pointed at him and asked, "Your name?"

He sighed and grumbled in his mysterious guttural language about her stupidity. After a moment of internal debate, he decided there was no harm in telling his name. If he was lucky, the backwater planet will have heard of his reputation. "Vegeta."

"Vegeta?" she asked, trying to get her mouth to form the foreign name in his exotic accent. "Where are you from?"

He pretended not to understand her question. He was vaguely disappointed that his name didn't strike fear into her heart. With a shrug, he turned on his heel, ready to rid himself of her annoying presence. But, much to his chagrin, she ran after him and grabbed his elbow to restrain him from leaving.

"Wait," she pleaded, "Don't go yet. Where are your parents?"

She stepped back nervously at the fierce intensity of his glare as he shook her hand off. He was done humoring her. "Dead," he answered tersely, then stalked away while she was left gaping at him in shock.

'Maybe I heard wrong,' she reasoned as she trudged back home after her encounter with Vegeta. 'It was probably some word from his language that happened to sound like dead.' But the more she tried to convince herself this was so, the less she was able to believe it. There was no doubt about it: He said his parents were dead. Her heart was crushed as she was overwhelmed with pity for the orphan. Did he even have a home? She couldn't shake that question from her head. She was about to go back and try to find him again when there was a loud clap of thunder followed by a steady drizzle of rain.

Shoving her guilt aside, she started running home. She still had six blocks to go and didn't want to get completely soaked if she could avoid it.

Vegeta watched from his perch on the roof of a tall apartment building as the nosy blue-haired girl sprinted down the street, shielding her eyes from the rain with her arm. He frowned. Why had he allowed himself to interact with her at all? He'd noticed her walking around the neighborhood nearly every day for the duration of his stay there, but he couldn't explain why she stood out to him among the rest of the humans. She certainly wasn't the only regular passer-by. But she was most definitely the only one with such a fascinating color of hair. He'd never seen anything like it in all of his dealings with aliens from across the galaxy. That, he convinced himself, was the only reason he remembered her when he wouldn't recognize anyone else who passed him by daily. It was simple. He liked blue and she had blue hair. So he noticed her.

He smirked to himself as he thought about the lack of magnetism in her personality. What a brat! He only said two words to her and yet she screamed at him with a horribly shrill voice and acted as if _he_ should be groveling at _her_ feet. Just who did she think she was? "Insolent wench," he muttered before pushing himself forward to drop off the building. He landed in a crouch on the ground below, ignoring the wide eyes and shouts of surprise directed at him and sauntered down the sidewalk. Everyone else seemed to be in a hurry, more than usual, because of the dreary weather, but he didn't mind it. He rather enjoyed the feeling of the cool rain washing over his face, trickling down his neck and back, and beading in his flame of hair.

Silently he stalked through the streets of the city. He drew no attention to himself, not because he feared the humans, but rather had no interest in dealing with them on any level. He could effortlessly kill them all, but there was really no point. He had no orders to purge the mudball and didn't want to waste the energy it would take to do so. It was a small planet, but it had a very high population. It would be a pain flushing out all the miserable vermin and eradicating them.

He glanced up at the sky, hoping he would catch a glimpse of a small, spherical object falling to the ground, but as usual, there was nothing. No sign of hope. Not that there was any hope to be had anyway. What did he have to look forward to when someone came to get him? He would return to his life of endless beatings, honorless killing, near-starvation, and humiliation. It wasn't as if he'd fallen from paradise. Most likely he would face a beating that would bring him within an inch of life when he finally got back to his slave-driver even though it wasn't his fault he was stranded where he was. Still, he'd take that life where he could release his frustration with the hand fate dealt him through aggression over the one he was living now. Lying low and living in relative peace with an inferior race were not his favorite pastimes.

'Perhaps if I can repair my pod I'll be able to leave sooner and lessen the degree of my impending punishment,' he thought bitterly. 'As if that would save me. But at least it would get me off this measly hellhole.'

Waiting was not a game he took much pleasure in. Already a month had gone by. He had no idea how much longer it would be before someone would get to him to take him away. Too long, in his opinion, even if it were only one day longer. Unfortunately for him, the planet he was stranded on was on the edge of the galaxy, insignificant, unwanted, not even worth destroying for target practice or purging for a practice mission. There wouldn't be anyone around for hundreds of light-years. It could take months for anyone to reach him, and he doubted anyone would come running to save his hide. Except maybe Nappa and Raditz, but no doubt they were busy mucking up the mission they were on and wouldn't be allowed to find him as their punishment. He cursed his poor luck. If only his pod hadn't malfunctioned and crash landed!

He wrapped his tail tighter around his waist as he walked, feeling rather insecure about his near future. His 'master' would be positively furious with him for allowing something so stupid to happen to him. He had a tight schedule for purging planets, and the lizard wouldn't be happy about a slow-down in his hostile takeover of every habitable planet in his quadrant of the universe. Besides, now who would he use as a living punching bag to vent his foul moods?

It might have been safer to let them all think he was dead so they wouldn't bother coming after him. 'No,' he thought hopelessly, 'They would have come after me eventually anyway. And then when they found out I hadn't tried contacting them, I would _really_ get a beating. Wouldn't want to think I was running away.' He snorted and shook his head. He had no choice. He was a slave and would be until he could become strong enough to overthrow the lizard tyrant.

After walking aimlessly for hours, he finally grew bored and returned to his temporary home. It wasn't much, really. He was living like a common peasant under a stairway. He'd surrounded the small space with boxes and could only get in through a small hole near the ground he crawled through. Inside, it was dark and warm, almost comfortable as he had formed himself a sort of nest out of whatever satisfactory materials he could find: leaves, grass, abandoned clothes and other cloth. He didn't need luxury to survive. He scoffed at that idea. He hadn't known luxury for years; he hardly remembered what the word meant.

He curled up and rested his head on his arm, his tail still protectively wrapped around his waist. Without bothering to take off his boots, gloves, or armor, he fell into a fitful sleep plagued with nightmares of his tortuous, blood-filled eleven years of life.

Bulma looked out the window at the unrelenting downpour and sighed. She couldn't concentrate on her homework anymore. It wasn't particularly challenging, but her mind kept drifting back to the boy she met that afternoon. He was very, very strange. Eyes as black as coal with hair to match, and his hair stood straight up as if he spiked it with gel, but it didn't look like there was any gel in it. And he spoke some unknown language, apparently had no parents, and for all she knew he was homeless too. He was wearing really weird clothes that actually kind of looked like some weird kind of armor. He was gruff, maybe because she accidentally offended him, and he didn't seem to recognize her as a young celebrity. Not that she minded the last part.

"Vegeta," she said again, testing the way it felt to say his name. She couldn't help but think that it was a very strong name. What it meant, she had no idea, but the way it sounded made her think he was born to be a great man. Powerful. "I like it."

She found herself doodling a picture of him in her notebook when her bubbly mother came into her room to check up on her progress. "How are you doing, Bulma?" she asked as she came up behind her daughter and looked over her shoulder. Instead of seeing algebraic formulas scrawled across the page she saw a very detailed portrait of a young boy who appeared to be about Bulma's age. She giggled. "That doesn't look like your homework, dear. Who's the boy?"

Snapped back to reality, Bulma blushed three shades of red and slammed her notebook shut. "No one, Mom, just someone I met today."

"You met him at school? Is he a new student?"

Groaning under the persistence of her mother's questions, Bulma shook her head. "I met him on the way home from school. He's weird though. He doesn't speak English and he doesn't seem very friendly. And I think he's an orphan."

"Oh my!" Bulma's mother squealed. "Why didn't you bring him home with you, dear?"

Bulma started wringing her hands in her lap as she answered, "He kind of scared me and then he left. And before I could find him again it started raining so I ran home. _Should_ I have invited him to come home with me?"

"Oh, that poor boy," Mrs. Brief murmured sadly. "All alone out there in this weather!"

Both looked out the window again as a streak of lightning lit up the darkening sky. That wasn't too inviting, and anyway, Vegeta could be anywhere. Bulma sighed and looked down at her desk, ashamed of herself for letting him get away when he might need a good home. "Well, how about if I see him again I ask if he wants to stay with us?"

Bulma smiled when she saw her mother's cheery grin return to her downcast face. "That would be good of you, sweetie. Now, finish your homework before dinner." Her motherly duties done for the time being, she left her daughter to do as she ordered and went downstairs to finish cooking. Already the savory smells of bread and spices were filling the air.

When she finished her homework, Bulma raced downstairs and set the table while her mother finished up the final touches for dinner. Dr. Brief meandered into the kitchen reading his evening newspaper and sat down at the table, muttering to himself about the absurdity of some news story and stroking his mustache. He fit the description of absent-minded professor very well, despite not teaching at any university. It was his eccentricity that endeared him to those who knew him well, and it was how hard-working, determined, and driven he was that earned him the prize of his wife's hand in marriage. She supported him through the years as he worked tirelessly on his 'crazy' invention that eventually earned them billions of dollars: DynoCaps.

He set his newspaper aside and pulled his daughter into a hug and pecked her cheek before she sat down at the table next to him. "Anything interesting happen today, dear?" he asked.

She nodded, her mind again drifting to the mysterious boy she met. "I talked to a boy I saw on the street today. I think he's an orphan and he might be homeless and he doesn't speak English and I want to invite him to stay with us if I see him again," she prattled out in one breath.

Used to his daughter's fast words, Dr. Brief chuckled and nodded. It sounded like an acceptable plan to him. He was never one to turn someone in need out, even if that person was an unknown boy who he'd never met and didn't know if he should trust around his little girl. That was his nature, though. Trusting and compassionate, he would take the whole world under his roof if he had the space and the world needed a place to stay.

Bulma grinned and jumped up to hug her father again. She knew he would understand. It wasn't as if she hadn't learned her caring ways from her parents. She was still beaming all the way through her meal despite being reminded that she needed to go to bed early that night because she had a field trip in the morning and had to be at school half an hour earlier than usual. She was a bit of a night owl and would much rather stay up late, but she agreed and, after helping wash the dishes, bounded out of the kitchen to go watch her favorite TV show before bed.

At 9:00 she forced herself to go to bed, but it wasn't until almost 10:00 that she was finally able to go to sleep. It wasn't that she wasn't tired, but she couldn't stop herself from thinking about Vegeta and her parents' approval to ask him to live with them if he needed a place to stay next time she saw him. Assuming she saw him again. That idea plagued her mind until she was almost crying. What if she didn't see him again? What if he had to live on the streets forever because she'd been too stupid to ask him in the first place? She prayed to Kami that the opportunity to take him home would arise soon.

_A/N: Thus begins another freaking epic long story. I love AU's... they're the most fun to write. So much 'artistic' freedom. Anyway, this story is not actually finished yet, but I think I have enough of a head-start that I can post fairly regularly and not get behind. I'm not sure how it'll go with posting and writing like this, but I'll try it. I hope you enjoy. Leave me reviews and tell me what you think about the story concept!_


	2. Genius?

Genius?

Vegeta woke up before the sun rose over the horizon, the same as he did every day. Naturally an early riser, he combed the pieces of dead leaves and other debris out of his thick hair with his fingers and stretched before crawling out of his nest. He peaked around the corner of the building and, seeing no one, wrapped his tail tightly around his waist and walked into the open to search for some food. He hadn't eaten much since his crash landing, seeing as there was little game to be found in the city. He could have stayed out in the wild, but he retained the lingering hope that he would come across some materials he could use to repair his pod in the city. That was why he ventured out on a daily basis; not to mingle with the humans, but to search for some useful technology on the primitive planet.

He started jogging down the empty sidewalk, knowing he had to keep himself in shape for when he went back into the lizard's service. Though naturally capable of staying in good condition without exercise for rather extended periods of time, he preferred staying in top condition in case any unexpected challenges came his way. And, knowing his luck, he would run into trouble sooner or later, even if he was on a pathetic little planet where all the inhabitants were total weaklings.

It had been almost two weeks since his 'talk' with the little blue-haired girl. He still watched her every day as she went home after school, but he was careful never to let her see him again. The last thing he wanted was her pestering him or trying to apologize more. She hadn't really offended him, at least not in the way she thought she had. Foolish girl, thinking that because he didn't speak to her in her own language he couldn't understand it.

Still, for some reason he couldn't name, he felt drawn to the hot-tempered girl. Not because he wanted companionship. No, he preferred solitude. Despite being amongst thousands of humans, he was still very much alone, and he wanted to keep it that way. Knowing human sentimentality, she would attempt to befriend him and coerce him into speaking with her on a regular basis and perhaps even sharing pieces of himself with her. Well, that would never happen. He liked keeping to himself and keeping his life private. No one else in the universe had any right to know anything about him or his past. Especially no one he'd never see again after he left the mudball he was currently residing on.

His stomach growled loudly, reminding him that it had been quite a while since his last substantial meal. At least two days. He turned right down one of the main roads cutting through the city and passed another morning jogger who looked somewhat surprised to see someone so young out and about. Vegeta ignored him, instead following the enticing aromas of food wafting on the breeze from a nearby diner. He stopped when he reached it and looked in the window to see what kind of food was available there. Nothing he recognized, that was for sure, but it smelled delicious and really at this point he would eat almost anything.

Vegeta went in the front door and took in his surroundings. There was jazzy music playing softly in the background behind a loud clattering of dishes, talking, and shouts back in the kitchen announcing meals being prepared for the waiting patrons. It was noisy, yet somehow welcoming. The smells were more tantalizing than ever, making Vegeta's stomach rumble louder with eager anticipation as he walked to a counter and hopped up onto a stool.

A kindly old waitress came over to him, smiling at her young customer as she pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. "What would like, honey?" she asked in a thick Brooklyn accent.

Vegeta's eyebrow raised. He had a choice? He didn't know what to order. "What would you recommend?" he asked through his thick accent, deciding it would be smoother to ask that than to tell her he had no idea what he wanted.

The old lady tapped her pen against her chin. "Well, the special today is the farmer's platter, but that's an awful lot of food for a boy your size."

He shrugged. "I'll take that."

"Anything to drink?"

"Water."

His order taken down, the old lady turned and went to the window where she stuck the piece of paper with his order written on it on a wheel that turned around so the cooks could see what they needed to prepare. She wandered off to another table where a disheveled businessman was holding out an empty coffee cup for her to refill. Vegeta watched their exchange in silence before turning his attention to the large windows where he could see an occasional car driving down the street and a small crowd of humans gathering at a bus stop. Nothing out of the ordinary.

It wasn't long before a plate was set before him. There was an omelet filled with sausage, bacon, ham, peppers, mushrooms, and cheese with a side of American fries and two pieces of toast. He frowned. This wouldn't be enough to satisfy his hunger. He sighed and started eating voraciously. Whether or not it would be enough, he would take what he could get. In under five minutes it was all gone, not a single crumb left on his plate. He drank his glass of water and wondered if he should order more food.

He had yet to come to a decision when the old waitress returned and, after muttering her surprise at the speed at which he finished his meal, set a small piece of paper down in front of him and went to tend to an elderly couple who had just come in. Vegeta grabbed the paper and looked at it, recognizing the strange symbols as part of the human number system. 'Of course,' he thought, 'They want to be paid for the food. As if I have money.' He scoffed. He could easily leave without paying, but it was dishonorable not to give payment for food. He looked around the diner again. There was the same disheveled businessman walking toward him, probably on his way out. Vegeta smirked.

As the man passed by, Vegeta's tail unwrapped from his waist and snatched the man's wallet out of his back pocket. It coiled back around his waist before the man had even moved past him. He opened the wallet and pulled out a bill that had a number that matched the one on the piece of paper the waitress left with him. Figuring that was all he needed to do, he got up from his seat and left the diner.

He started walking down the street back toward his humble abode when he overheard two men speaking to each other about some impressive technology. His ears perked up as he thought perhaps they would have some information that could help him break free of his imprisonment on their puny planet.

"I hear she's already smarter than her father," the first man said.

The second man nodded. "It's wild, isn't it? She's a kid and already the smartest person in the whole world!"

"Can you even imagine the kinds of technological advances that'll come when she takes over the company?"

"It's unbelievable. I hope I'll still be working for them when she's president. Talk about financial security."

"You're telling me!"

Vegeta had no idea what they were talking about. What kid were they talking about, what kind of technology was she capable of creating, and what company produced said technology? He needed to know more, so he paced himself to stay well enough behind the men that they wouldn't notice him following them but kept them in hearing range. This girl, whoever she was, might be his ticket off the mudball.

"Oh, man, we're going to be late at this rate!" the first man grumbled after checking his watch. Both men started walking faster, unaware of the odd boy trailing after them.

'Oh, man, I'm going to be late at this rate!' Bulma thought as she grabbed her backpack and ran out the door of the domed Capsule Corporation compound. She pushed her way through the multitude of scientists who were coming in the front gate to begin another day of work as she dashed to school. Genius or not, she had already been late to school twice in the past week and another tardy would mean an after-school detention.

Running as fast as her legs could carry her, Bulma rounded a corner and ran straight into one of the men a certain flame-haired boy was following. She fell backward and glared up at the man who served as a wall against her small frame. She jumped back to her feet and was about to give the apologizing man a thorough tongue-lashing when she saw the boy a few feet behind them, stopped in his tracks and scowling at her sudden appearance. They were about to mention the name of the girl who might be able to help him fix his space pod!

"I'm so sorry, Miss Brief," the man stammered.

"Whatever," she mumbled, shoving her way past the two men and walking up to Vegeta.

His scowl deepened with each step she took toward him. "Hi, Vegeta! You remember me, don't you? Bulma Brief! I've been hoping I'd find you again. My parents said it was ok for me to ask if you wanted to come stay with us at Capsule Corporation. That is, if you don't have anywhere else to stay." She blushed a little when he looked at her incredulously. She'd gone and done it again, forgetting he spoke a different language.

"Capsule Corporation?" he repeated. That was the name of the company the two men, who had since continued on their way, were talking about before she ran into one of them like a blind idiot.

She grinned and nodded. Even if he didn't know her language, he'd surely heard of the world-famous corporation that was rapidly taking over every area of the global market, especially in the science and technology department. "It's where I live. Will you stay with us?"

Vegeta seemed to be considering her answer, though she wasn't sure if it was because he knew what she asked or if he was trying to figure out what she was saying. She didn't know how else to ask, though, since she definitely didn't know _his_ language. All she could hope for was that he would be able to somehow decipher her inquiry and give a clear answer.

"You live there?" he asked skeptically. He didn't know why anyone would live at a place of business, especially a business so large.

She nodded again, completely forgetting she was going to be late to school. "It's great! There's tons of guest rooms and we're filthy rich so you wouldn't be imposing at all if you came to live with us. I promise!"

He wasn't interested in how comfortable the living quarters may be or how anyone would be willing to provide for his basic needs. He was interested in the fact that he might be able to find the girl the men were talking about and 'persuade' her to help him repair his space pod so he could get off the planet and go on with the mission he was supposed to currently be on. Then he could return – late, but not over a year late – and face his beating and get on with life. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. Being so close to the mudball's best technology was exactly what he'd been hoping for since he came to the city. Maybe fortune was on his side for once.

At the same time, he was wary about staying with the planet's inhabitants, and he had learned long ago not to trust anyone or make himself indebted to anyone if he could help it. He didn't usually accept charity, considering it to be for the weak. Besides, he wouldn't be able to repay them, and he still clung to his honor even if it was slowly fading with each purging mission he completed. He turned his eyes away when he saw the annoying loud-mouthed girl looking at him expectantly. Why would she want him to stay with her anyway? Was she crazy? He sighed.

"Maybe."

Bulma frowned. That wasn't a very heartening answer. If he was even partially willing to accept, that probably meant he didn't have anywhere better to go. She couldn't imagine what the issue was if that were the case. Surely he would want a comfortable bed to sleep in and good cooking. "Well, how about you think about it today and you can come home with me when I get out of school? I'll be around here around 3:30 this afternoon."

His only response was a noncommittal shrug. She still didn't know how well he could understand her, so she had to assume that was agreement. With a small smile she stepped around him and resumed her mad dash to make it to school on time. If she thought she was going to be late before, now there was absolutely no doubt about it. She was a block away from where she talked to Vegeta when she remembered she was going to get stuck with a detention, which meant she'd be an hour late getting home. Hopefully he'd be willing to wait around that long.

When Bulma was gone, Vegeta turned his thoughts back to a more pertinent topic. Namely, who was the genius the men were talking so highly of? Could there really be a human capable of understanding the advanced technology of his space pod well enough to help him get it back in working order? He doubted any humans had such intelligence, but it was the best he could do given his poor circumstances. The men said it was a girl, very young. That made his hope dim more. He was hardly willing to put his trust in some little brat. Not that he had many options available…

'I'll find out who this girl is, and then if she can help me I will enlist her services. If she can't help me, then I'll kill her and her whole damn family for wasting my time. How do I go about figuring out who she is though? No names were mentioned.' Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and rapped his fingers against his bicep. If that bimbo girl hadn't come flying around that corner and seen him he could be on his way to the corporation right now with all the knowledge he needed. Finally, he reached the conclusion that he would accept the girl's offer and decided to explore the city more until that afternoon when she would come by and get him.

Bulma sprinted through the halls of her school and skidded into homeroom, but she was too late. The bell had already rung four minutes ago. The other kids in the class looked up as she slammed the door open, and, panting, started for her seat near the back of the class. She prayed that her teacher would have mercy on her. There had been extraneous circumstances that kept her from making it to school on time!

"Bulma Brief," her teacher groaned in exasperation while gesturing for the girl to come up to her desk. When the girl stood in front of her desk with head hanging, she shook her head in disappointment. "What's the excuse this time?"

The girl turned her head to the side when she heard some of the students behind her laughing at the situation she found herself in. It wasn't unfamiliar, but it still hurt the way she was the butt of everyone's amusement. Just because she was younger and smarter didn't mean they had to be mean to her all the time. She swallowed back the growing lump in her throat as she turned back to her teacher. "I'm sorry, Ms. Beketov, I got delayed on my way here. I would have been on time but it was really important that I talk to someone."

Unsurprisingly, Ms. Beketov didn't seem impressed. She sighed as she pulled a pink slip out of the top drawer of her desk and started writing on it. Bulma groaned when she saw it and briefly considered telling her teacher off for being such a tyrant. She was four minutes late to _homeroom_, why did it matter so much? Sadly, she accepted the pink slip and shuffled out of the classroom to the office to turn it in and have her detention formally arranged for that afternoon.

'Why do I even have to go to school?' she wondered as she made her way to the office. 'It's not as if I'm going to learn anything here that'll ever be important. I've already mastered mechanical and computer engineering, and that's all I'm ever going to need.'

By the time she made it back to Ms. Beketov's classroom, the lesson had already started. She quickly went to her seat and collapsed into it and rested her head on her desk. She was having a miserable morning and didn't care to take notes about plant cells. Biology bored her anyway. She already knew what cell walls, nuclei, and vacuoles were; she'd learned about them all years earlier when she read some of her dad's science magazines.

"Miss Brief, there will be no sleeping in my class," Ms. Beketov barked when she saw the blue-haired girl with her head down.

Bulma raised her head and glared fiercely at her teacher's back. She hadn't been sleeping. 'That stupid woman needs to get over herself,' she thought angrily, making it a point to ignore the snickers from her classmates. Sometimes she thought she was given a hard time as a form of entertainment for everyone else. Or maybe they all had a vendetta against her simply because she was so much smarter and they were all jealous. Even the teachers.

The rest of her day wasn't much better as she went from class to class, hardly ever paying any attention to the lectures. It was no wonder she was such a source of endless frustration for her teachers. She drew blueprints in her notebooks through all her classes and still managed to ace all her exams and write exceptional papers. It was clear to them all that she didn't belong in middle school. She was more than ready for a college education already, but she wouldn't graduate from high school until she was fourteen. It was a pity, and a distraction. Other students would emulate her behavior and refuse to pay attention thinking they could get away with it too.

When the last bell of the day rang, Bulma dragged herself out of her seat and grabbed her books from her locker and stuffed them in her backpack before going to detention hall. She had another hour before she could get out of school. While she never cared for detention, she was more aggravated with it than usual, especially when the clock read 3:30PM. She should be on her way home that very moment with Vegeta. Instead she was still at school and still had 45 minutes left to spend there.

At 3:30, Vegeta returned to the corner where the girl said to meet him that afternoon. He looked up and down the street, but he didn't see blue hair anywhere. Either she was running late or she'd already gone by, meaning he'd missed his opportunity to get inside the corporation where he could find some potentially useful technology. He growled and the tip of his tail twitched in agitation as he continued searching for her.

Bulma groaned when the clock seemed to be moving in slow motion. Only fifteen more minutes before she could leave. Then she would race home and hope Vegeta was waiting for her. She banged her head on her desk a few times, bored out of her mind and anxious to get out of detention.

'Please, Vegeta, please, please, please be there when I go home!'

Vegeta was tired of waiting. He sprang up to the top of a building and sat on the edge with his head held in his hands and elbows propped on his knees. He should have known better than to accept her invitation. He didn't know why it mattered so much. Had he really allowed himself to put his faith in the unknown girl genius who might be useful to him? That was the only way he could explain the deep sense of disappointment he felt when he once again looked through the crowd of humans below for the blue-haired girl. She was nowhere to be found.

'I've already wasted enough time waiting for that stupid brat,' he growled mentally. He threw himself over the edge of the building and landed gracefully with his tail stretched out behind him for balance. With a deep scowl etched on his face he went back to the alley where he had made his nest and crawled into it.

"You're free to go," the teacher in charge of detention that day announced at 4:15PM. Bulma leaped out of her seat, threw her backpack over her shoulders, and ran out of the school building at a dead sprint. She had to get back to her meeting place with Vegeta as fast as possible.

But when she reached the place where she talked to him that morning, he was nowhere in sight. She ran around the corner and looked down the street, but she saw no black flame of hair. She turned back down the other street, but he wasn't there. She stood there a few minutes, hoping he was running late, but deep down she knew he wasn't going to show up. She'd missed him, and now she had no idea if she'd ever see him again or if he'd really be willing to stay with her. He probably thought she'd stood him up on purpose.

"Darn it! I hate Ms. Beketov! Why did I have to get a detention today?" she hissed. She tried to fight it, but before she'd gone another block on her way home she was in tears. She felt terrible about what happened.

_A/N: Aw. Nothing ever seems to go right for these two in my stories. For those of you wondering, this is _not_ going to be a school fic. I'm not a huge fan of those, so I'm not going to write one. Thanks for the positive reviews on the first chapter! I've decided I'll post a chapter every time I get a new one written, so hopefully that'll be motivation for me to write faster. I have 21 chapters done and I'm working on chapter 22 right now. This is a different way for me to do things, so I hope it works._


	3. Missing Prince

Missing Prince

Two metal spheres shot across the indigo sky and crashed into the ground with a bright flash of light followed by a loud rumbling sound and a shockwave that caused all the nearby buildings to collapse into heaps of rubble, killing thousands within seconds. The people who weren't dead ran to the edges of the craters made on impact, only to see the small spherical objects opening and two enormous men stepped out into the humid, tropical air.

The two men looked up at the sky and then glanced around them, ignoring the indigenous people. They looked confused and apprehensive. The taller one, a bald man with a thin black mustache turned to his long-haired companion with a scowl. "Where is he?"

The man with wild hair shrugged helplessly. "He was on his way with us. Maybe something happened on the way here?"

The bald man grunted and reached up to a strange device attached to his left ear that wrapped around and covered his left eye. He pushed a button and foreign symbols started scrawling across the blue screen at a rapid pace. "There's no power levels on this planet higher than 750 besides us. He's definitely not here."

Both men's brows furrowed. "Should we try contacting him?" the long-haired man asked.

"You do it. I'm going to start the purge. He wouldn't want us wasting time." The bald man levitated up out of the crater while his companion started pushing the button on his own device that had a dark green screen instead of blue. He smirked evilly when he landed on the edge of the crater, held his arm out with two fingers extended, and started gathering energy. Time for the fun to begin.

The second man ignored the destruction around him as he tried fruitlessly to contact their missing comrade. "Damnit, his scouter either isn't turned on or it's broken!" he snarled. The likelihood of the scouter being off was rather slim. They were supposed to be able to contact each other and receive transmissions from their superiors at all times. Something probably _had_ gone wrong and there was no telling where the third member of their squadron was.

"Nappa!" he shouted up to the taller man as he jumped up to the edge of the crater, not even noticing the leveled city around him. "I can't get a transmission to go through to his scouter. Do you have any messages from him?"

Nappa pushed the button on his scouter a few times then frowned and shook his head. "No messages from him," he sighed. "Come on, Raditz, let's finish this purge and we'll see if we can find out where he is from the idiots at base."

"Right." The two men split up and started systematically destroying all sentient life on the planet.

It was four days before all life was cleared off the planet and Raditz and Nappa met up again where they originally landed. Both were covered in dried blood and gore, smelled like smoke, and seriously needed baths, but they didn't notice their lack of hygiene. There were more important matters at hand.

"He's still not here," Raditz said.

Nappa crossed his arms over his chest and furrowed his brows. "It's possible his pod malfunctioned and he had to stop on another planet before he could reach this one. I'd say we should go look for him, but where would we start?"

Raditz shrugged. "Should we contact base?"

"I don't know. If they don't already know that something's happened to him then it would be better not to let them know. Then again, if they know where he is, we can get him and take him back with us," Nappa reasoned aloud.

"We could tell them he was killed on the mission. Then he'd never have to go back," Raditz added.

Nappa shook his head. "We can't risk them finding him later. He probably wouldn't survive the beating they'd give him. I think the best option is to contact base and see if they've heard from him."

There was no arguing about it. Base would know if he'd tried contacting anyone when he had a problem with his space pod, assuming he had a problem at all. But there was no doubt in their minds that he was missing because of a technical problem, not because he'd bailed out on them. He hadn't tried escaping his bondage since he was seven years old. He learned after one failed attempt that not only could he not escape, but any attempt made would be rewarded with punishment cruel enough to make him beg for death.

Sitting down on the ground, Nappa pushed the button on his scouter until it connected with the nearest base planet. It took a few minutes for the transmission to go through before someone replied on the other end.

"You have contacted Base Planet 53, soldier."

"This is Nappa from squadron 10. We lost one member on the way to purge Planet 1084XR. Has Prince Vegeta made contact with any base planets concerning pod malfunction?"

"Checking now. Stand by."

Nappa grumbled under his breath while he waited for the technician on the base planet to search through the myriad transmissions received over the past few weeks. Several minutes later the technician reconnected with Nappa. "A transmission was received 23 days ago from Prince Vegeta. He is stranded on planet 1076XR. A team has already been sent to retrieve him. You have orders from Frieza not to go after him. Return immediately to the home ship."

"What? Not go after him? We could get him on the way back and save time!" Nappa shouted at the messenger. With a growl of frustration he cut the transmission and stood up.

Raditz raised an eyebrow as he also stood up from where he was sitting. "They know where he is?"

The bald man nodded and formed a large ki blast that he threw into the already decimated city. He needed to vent his anger. He, the prince's bodyguard, was ordered _not_ to go get him from some random planet where there might be a hostile environment, maybe no food or water, or he could be severely injured after a crash landing. It was aggravating, knowing where he was and being ordered not to go there. If he went, both he and the prince would be beaten. His own life may be terminated for disobeying orders. He didn't have a choice. They had to return to the ship without Prince Vegeta.

"Let's go," Nappa growled. He turned and got into his space pod and entered the coordinates for the home ship. Raditz followed suit and as quickly as they came, they were gone, leaving only destruction behind.

_A/N: ...I _should_ be writing a 15-page philosophy paper..._


	4. Welcome to CC

Welcome to Capsule Corporation

Bulma was running late again. It seemed like she could just never get out of the compound soon enough in the morning to make it to school on time without having to run full speed the whole way. 'At least I'll never get fat,' she thought as she rounded the corner where she ran into a Capsule Corporation employee and found Vegeta six days ago. That corner triggered her memory of the boy every time she passed it and she was wished every day that she would see him there again. Even if it meant being very late, she would turn around and take him back to the compound before going to school.

But, like every day for the past week, there was no boy with piercing obsidian eyes that felt like they burned holes through her soul. With a sigh, she kept running and dismissed any thoughts about the homeless boy she wanted to help. She didn't have time to reminisce about her last encounter with him, she had to get to school on time and avoid another detention.

She barely made it in to homeroom on time. The bell rang as she was sitting down in her seat, trying to cover the fact that she was panting from her ten block sprint. Once she regained her breath she pulled her biology notebook out of her backpack and started designing a new motorcycle she wanted to build for herself. Granted she wasn't old enough to drive yet, but that didn't mean she couldn't dream.

Once class started she gave partial attention to the lecture, but soon she was so bored she couldn't focus anymore and allowed her thoughts to turn back to the same topic that had been plaguing her mind for three weeks. Vegeta. Every day when she walked home she hoped he would be in the area, but she never saw him around. For all she knew he was royally ticked off at her for standing him up after inviting him to come live with her. He probably thought she was just a mean girl with a twisted sense of humor, getting his hopes up and then dashing them and grinding them into the ground with the heel of her boot. She felt a familiar sickening guilt when she thought about the poor boy who needed a home.

'I wish I knew where I could find him. He's got to be staying somewhere, but I have no idea where so I can't really look for him. I hope he'll be around again.' She sighed heavily and looked out the window. It was a beautiful day outside. Warm, balmy, and sunny. The perfect spring day, and it was just getting started. It sure would be nice to be out of school so she could actually enjoy it.

After the blue-haired girl failed to show up at the time she said to meet her, Vegeta left the city and went back to his space pod out in a field about thirty miles away. He wanted to assess the damage again and see what sorts of repairs needed to be made to get it back in working order. He was afraid it would be irreparable, but he was pleased to find that with the proper tools he could probably get it running again, at least long enough to reach the nearest base planet where he could get a new one. But whether or not the repairs were _possible_ didn't matter so much as being able to find the means to make the necessary repairs. Besides, he wasn't sure he was qualified to do any work since he'd never really studied the inner workings of the space pods before. He never felt he needed to. Now he was cursing himself for being so foolish.

He sat down in the pod and set his scouter on his lap. It, too, was broken in the landing. He was barely able to get a transmission through to report his pod's malfunction and need for someone to come get him before its wiring fizzled out. When he opened it to see the damage, he groaned when he saw that many of the wires were melted together and there would be no way to fix it. It was a pity, too, considering he had lots of useful information stored on his scouter. Too late to back it up somewhere else.

The idea of returning to the city wasn't particularly pleasant to him. He was sick of being around so many plebeian humans. Whether or not he talked to them, he felt as if he was lowering himself by living among them. He was still curious about the supposedly world-renowned genius of Capsule Corporation though. Even if she couldn't help him, if he could just get his hands on some of the tools and technology at the corporation he might be able to make the repairs himself. His hope had been rekindled when he saw the damage to his space pod wasn't as bad as he originally thought.

He decided he would stay out in the wild a few more days and then go back to the city. At least in his present location he could hunt enough game to satisfy his enormous appetite. His stomach had ceased its persistent rumbling and he was feeling more energetic than when he was living in the city. With the sun shining in his pod, he felt comfortably warm and, having nothing better to do, he curled up in the seat and took a nap through the late morning.

'I wonder what he's doing right now?' Bulma thought as she sat down at a table by herself at lunch. She looked out the window and frowned. He was the lucky one, really. Being able to be outside instead of in school when it was so nice out. Reluctantly, she started eating the disgusting substance that passed for food at the cafeteria.

A couple minutes later a small group of girls sat down at the table across from Bulma with sneers on their faces. Bulma recognized them immediately as the 'glamorous' popular girls of the eighth grade, the small pack that every other girl in the school wanted to be a member of. Well, every girl aside from Bulma. She saw through them. They were a group of the meanest girls in the school that bullied everyone else with malicious rumors and gossip to raise themselves up on a pedestal. She hated them.

"Eating by yourself, Bulma?" one girl asked patronizingly. She was the leader of the pack. Tall with long, wavy brown hair and a rapidly-developing body, she looked like she belonged in high school already.

Bulma's lip curled. "I was until you came. What's the matter, you want to be famous by association?" she snapped back.

The brunette glared at the blue-haired girl. "You wish I wanted to hang with you. Too bad you're too young and ugly." She and the rest of the girls laughed as Bulma's face flushed with anger.

"If I'm so ugly why'd you sit with me?"

"With you? Please. We wanted this table, so you need to move."

"No."

"Go sit with the other geeks, you freak!"

"I was here first!"

"I don't care."

Both girls sat glaring at each other. If there was one word to describe Bulma, it was stubborn. She was not going to move because some airhead was trying to bully her. She ignored the stares of the other girls as she picked up her fork and continued eating the unidentifiable pasta covered in beads of grease. She refused to let them win.

The other girl was not willing to lose, though. She reached across the table and upended Bulma's tray in her lap and smirked smugly as the rest of the girls at the table broke out in cruel laughter. The blue-haired girl seethed with rage as she turned her eyes back to the girl sitting across from her. It was on now. She grabbed the girl's can of soda, shook it, and opened it so it sprayed all over her, soaking her perfectly styled hair with sticky cola.

"You little bitch!" the girl screamed.

Immediately two teachers ran over to see what the commotion was about. What they saw was Bulma still holding an empty soda can and Marissa Lane covered in the former contents of the can. They didn't notice the stains on Bulma's shirt and pants, though.

"Bulma Brief! Go to the principal's office right now!" Mr. Moore shouted.

"But she started it!" Bulma cried, pointing at Marissa.

"Now!"

Bulma threw the can down on the table and stood up, more furious than ever. She stalked past the teachers, grumbling under her breath about how unfair her punishment was, and went to the principal's office. She hated her teachers, she hated her peers, but most of all she hated her school. She actually considered leaving and going home at the risk of further disciplinary action being taken.

Vegeta yawned and stretched as he woke up from his nap. He hopped out of the space pod and circled around it, taking in every detail to make sure he didn't forget anything. When he was satisfied that he would remember all the repairs his pod needed, he sat down on the ground and started stretching as a warm-up for his afternoon kata. He hadn't been able to train much while in the city for the sake of avoiding attention, but out here he could do as he pleased. There were no humans around to see him.

He leaped to his feet when he finished stretching and started with an old kata he knew by heart before moving on to some new ones that he was still learning. He practiced them enough to perfect them in a relatively short period of time. Compared to other soldiers, he mastered new techniques very quickly, probably because he had a natural affinity for fighting and he had the inborn endurance needed for extended time spent training without breaks. It didn't hurt that he had a perfect memory so he could watch demonstrations of new kata in his mind while he was executing them.

It was after 2:30PM when he finished his work out and he decided to find something to eat before returning to the city. He sniffed the air and grinned when he caught the scent of a deer not far from where he was. Silently, he stalked through the field until he was only a few yards from the unsuspecting animal. Creeping closer, his tail flicked behind him and his tongue slid across his sharp canines as he readied himself before pouncing.

There was a short struggle wherein Vegeta knocked the deer to the ground, wrapped his arms around its neck, and bit into its aorta. He didn't get out of it without being kicked a few times, but like a good predator he held onto his prey until it ceased fighting and he knew it was dead. With practiced precision he formed a ki blade and skinned the deer, sliced it up, and cooked it over a small fire he created with a blast of ki. In half an hour the deer was devoured and the saiyan was sated.

'I'll go to the city today and find that blue-haired brat. If her offer still stands, I'll go with her to this Capsule Corporation. If it doesn't, I'll follow her anyway and get in so I can find what I need.' Vegeta blasted the remains of the deer before levitating off the ground and flying back to West City and the street where he'd seen the girl walking in the morning and afternoon regularly.

It was a few minutes before the girl usually walked by when Vegeta landed on the roof of a brick building and looked down at the street below. He didn't see her anywhere, so he figured he was early. He would wait longer this time. Maybe she was running late for some ridiculous reason the day she made her invitation.

The final bell rang and Bulma stuffed her books into her backpack, but instead of heading toward the exit from the school, she turned toward detention hall. She had three in a row for her little 'food fight' at lunch. She kept her eyes focused on the floor in front of her as she shuffled through the corridors, which only intensified her problems when she walked into someone. She bounced back and glanced up at the person, a hasty apology ready on her lips, but then she saw who it was and frowned. She wasn't going to apologize to _him_. The biggest jerk in the whole school, Mr. Jock himself, that horrible Marissa's boyfriend Jordan.

"Hey, watch where you're going turbo-nerd," he sneered.

"Shut up, ignoramus," she muttered as she shoved past him, ignoring the snickering of the jock's idiot friends.

"What does that even mean?" one of them asked as she stomped away. She bit back another scathing remark, instead choosing to let them wonder about her choice of words.

'It would be nice to have _one_ person on my side for a change!' she grumbled mentally as she walked into the room where detention was being held.

By the time 4:00 rolled around, Vegeta was growing increasingly impatient. He'd already been waiting around for over half an hour and still there was no blue-haired girl in sight. He was sure she hadn't come by earlier, so he remained steadfast in his refusal to give up his vigil until she came around. That didn't lessen his irritation though. His tail unraveled from his waist and beat against the roof he was sitting on until it cracked.

Bulma watched the clock ticking away the minutes. Her leg bounced with unreleased energy and she was waiting eagerly for the minute hand to move to the three so she could be released from detention at last. She groaned and sat back in her seat, bored out of her mind since all her homework had long since been completed, the book she brought for entertainment was finished, and she didn't have any new ideas for any gadgets she wanted to draw blueprints for. Not having anything better to do, she threw her notebook open and started sketching a picture of a boy with a severe widow's peak, haunting black eyes, and wearing some strange kind of armor.

Fifteen more minutes passed and Vegeta was highly aggravated with the delay in his plan. He needed to get to Capsule Corporation so he could get the materials – and possibly brains – he needed to fix his space pod and get off the mudball he was stranded on. He growled and surveyed the street as far as he could see, but still there was no blue crown of hair coming in his direction. He raked his hand through his thick mane of hair before sliding off the building. He paced in a circle a few times before he couldn't hold back his frustration any longer. He drew his fist back and slammed it into the side of the building he'd spent the past 45 minutes sitting on and watched with satisfaction as it cracked and crumbled to the ground in a pile of dusty rubble. Hearing humans screaming nearby, he phased across the street and feigned astonishment with the rest of them. He wasn't going to be pinned as the culprit behind the building's destruction.

"You're dismissed," the teacher's monotone voice droned over the scraping of chairs against the tile floor and shuffle of books being put in backpacks. Bulma was already ready to go before the announcement was made, so she bolted from the room and out of the school.

Vegeta had had enough. He was sick of waiting around. Punching another building wasn't going to help him. He'd wasted more than enough time waiting for the foolish girl. Of all the days for her not to show up, it was the day he really wanted her to come. He levitated off the ground and landed on the roof of a building across the street from the one he demolished and was about to leap to the next when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a fast-moving streak of blue. He turned his head and saw the girl he'd been waiting for running down the sidewalk, her long hair trailing behind her.

'There you are,' he thought with a smirk. He leaped to the next building, staying parallel with her on the ground until he reached the end of the block. Then he stepped of the building and landed around the corner where she always turned, his feet spread apart as he braced himself for impact. In seconds she rounded the corner and slammed into him full force, knocking her to the ground. He didn't budge at all.

Bulma shook her spinning head and stood up, brushing herself off. That's the second time she'd run into someone that day. How annoying. She again prepared an apology, but when she looked up this time, her words died before she could utter any sounds. She broke out into a huge grin when she saw the familiar scowling face of a boy with a flame of raven hair, deep onyx eyes, and an unmistakable widow's peak. He was still wearing his weird armor, but it looked like it was covered in… blood?

"Vegeta! Oh my Kami are you ok? What happened? Are you bleeding?"

Vegeta quirked an eyebrow then looked down at himself. He saw that he was coated in the blood of his latest kill. He hadn't even thought about washing it off before going back to civilization where someone would question who or what the blood belonged to. Naturally, her first assumption would be that it was his. After all, why else would an eleven year-old boy have blood all over himself? He supposed it wasn't a normal occurrence with the weakling humans.

"Not mine," he grumbled.

She looked even more startled. If not his, then whose was it? She shook her head, not ready for that answer. "Oh. Well, we need to get you cleaned up. You will come home with me, won't you?"

He shrugged. She took that as an affirmative. With a huge grin, she grabbed his hand and started pulling him along behind her before he could recover from his shock at her boldness and yank his hand away from her. The whole way home she babbled about how happy she was that he was finally coming to stay with them and that she was very sorry about not meeting him a few days ago and that she didn't have a choice because she had a detention – whatever that was. His head was reeling with all the words she was throwing at him. He could understand her language well enough when it was spoken at a normal rate, but she was rattling it off too fast for him to be able to catch it all.

They had been walking for a few blocks when a yellow domed building came into view. It was much larger than all the buildings around it and there was a steady flow of people walking out, making vehicles appear out of thin air, and driving away. Vegeta was baffled by it. Perhaps their technology was not as primitive as he first believed if they could make things as large as a car come into being from nothing. As they got closer he could see that the people were actually throwing very small objects on the ground from which the vehicles emerged in puffs of smoke.

He watched as the girl pulled a plastic card out of her pocket that had her picture and a black strip on it that she slid through some device on the front gate. A small light turned from red to green and there was the distinct sound of the gate unlocking before it opened and allowed them entrance. Obviously she hadn't been lying about where she lived.

Vegeta followed the girl into the compound. Before anything else he was welcomed with the scent of bread baking and roasting meat. He stole a sidelong glance at the girl, but she didn't seem at all surprised so he figured coming home to such an enticing aroma was normal. He was starting to think this wouldn't be such a bad place to stay if that were the case. He jumped back and landed in a defensive stance when a tall blonde woman suddenly emerged through a door he hadn't noticed and ran toward him and the girl.

"Bulma, where have you been? It's so late!" she chided her daughter. "Oh my, who is this? Is this the boy you told me about?"

Bulma blushed a little and turned to see her guest standing in a crouch with hands raised as if warding off an unseen enemy. His scowl was fiercer than usual and his lip was curled in a snarl that revealed a very long canine. She shuddered, wondering how she'd never noticed his animalistic appearance before. Swallowing, she turned back to her mother and nodded. "Yeah, this is Vegeta. He decided to come stay with us, I think." She turned back to the boy. "Vegeta, this is my mom."

The boy looked between the two females warily before lowering his hands and straightening his back. He took a tentative step closer and was completely thrown off guard when the cheerful blonde woman enveloped him in a hug and started squealing about how adorable he was and how happy she was to be able to save him from living in the streets with the rats and dirt.

With a low growl he extracted himself from her embrace and vigorously rubbed the place on his cheek where she somehow managed to plant a kiss. 'This woman is nuts,' he concluded. 'Must be where the brat gets it from.'

"Oh my, but where are my manners?" Mrs. Brief asked, horrified with herself. "I'm sure you want a nice, hot bath and a change of clothes. Wouldn't that be nice? Come with me, Vegan."

Bulma put her hand over her mouth to stifle her giggling as her mother put her hands on the boy's shoulders and guided him upstairs to a guestroom that was already set up with toiletries and other necessities for a young boy. She apparently hadn't even noticed the fact that he was covered in dried blood and smelled like one of the dirty rats she wanted to protect him from.

Ten minutes later Mrs. Brief came back down the stairs with the boy's odd clothes in her arms and went straight to the laundry room to clean them for him. She'd finally persuaded him to get in the steaming hot bath she'd drawn for him and laid out fresh clothes for him to wear when he was all finished. She left him with an invitation to come to dinner in an hour. She was already very fond of the boy, her motherly instincts kicking in the moment she saw him. Perhaps she acted oblivious to everything around her, but she couldn't miss the distrust in his eyes the instant he saw her and she was reminded of an abused animal that needed a good, loving home to heal the psychological damage. A very nurturing woman, she was looking forward to taking care of him in any way she could.

Vegeta sighed with relief when the crazy woman left his new quarters. He didn't want to admit out loud that the hot bath actually felt really good on his sore muscles. It had been too long for him to remember since the last time he had a real bath, not rinsing off in a freezing cold shower or swimming in a dirty river or ocean or whatever body of water he could find to get rid of some of the caked on dirt and blood after a purge mission.

He soaked in the bath until the water was lukewarm, then dragged himself out and dried off with the fluffy white towel hanging on the bathroom door. He reminded himself not to get used to the comfort of hot baths and towels that didn't scratch his skin. He was only going to be staying there for a limited amount of time and then he would return to the life he knew. The life where he lived as an unwilling servant of the lizard tyrant, killing millions and getting beaten for some supposed incompetence all too often.

He saw the clothes laid out for him on the counter next to the sink and shrugged. They were nothing like his own clothes. Loose-fitting and not very durable, but they were what he was offered and the blonde woman had taken his armor away so he didn't have much choice in the matter. He pulled the jeans on (after poking a hole in the back for his tail) and a t-shirt with a CC symbol on it over his head. 'At least I'm not naked,' he thought miserably as he looked at himself in the mirror. He shook his head and walked out of the bathroom and explored the large, plush room that had been given to him. There was a huge bed in the center, a bureau of drawers next to it, a desk with a chair in the corner, a small bedside table on the other side of the bed with a lamp on it, and a large, empty closet next to the bathroom. Overall, it looked pretty nice. He could get used to it, but he wouldn't let himself. Not when he had a life as a soldier to return to in hopefully a short time.

The bedroom door was open, letting the smells of food waft in from downstairs. His stomach growled despite him having eaten a whole deer only two hours ago. He'd been invited to dine with the girl's family, so he went back the way he had come and followed his nose to find the kitchen where the bubbly blonde woman was stirring something in a pot on the stove and the brat was sitting at the table recounting her tale about a 'food fight' at lunch. Vegeta walked over to the table and sat down in one of the chairs.

"Oh, hey Vegeta!" Bulma chirped. "Do you feel better now that you're all cleaned up?"

He sneered at her wide grin and crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't a baby and didn't want to be talked to as if he were one. Even if he couldn't understand her – and he could – it didn't mean it was acceptable to treat him like a child. He was a warrior!

The girl was not at all put off by his disdain. She brushed it off as easily as she would a ladybug from her shirt. "I'm sorry, I keep forgetting you don't speak English."

Vegeta narrowed his eyes as he glared at her. 'She must really think I'm stupid,' he thought indignantly. 'Newsflash, you bratty girl, _you're_ the stupid one.' With a roll of his eyes, he directed his thoughts to the most important matter at hand: the genius who could possibly help him repair his space pod.

When she saw him roll his eyes with a silent scoff, Bulma began to wonder if there was more to the boy than he let on. When she looked into his deep black eyes she could feel a sort of wildness mixed with intelligence to rival her own. But that was impossible. She was the smartest genius in the whole world. Some homeless boy was _not_ as smart as she was. She was certain of that. Still, it was unnerving the way his eyes could bore through her and make her feel weak, stupid, and childish. He couldn't be much older than her, yet he had the eyes of a haunted man who had lived to see too much horror for one lifetime.

He watched the blonde woman start setting food on the table and had to restrain himself from immediately digging in to it. He didn't know their customs yet and didn't want to run the risk of offending them and being turned out for a perceived slight before he was able to get his hands on what he wanted. He turned his head when he heard the kitchen door opening and a short man with messy lavender hair and a mustache walked in, a newspaper held under his arm and a smoldering cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

"Hi, Daddy!" Bulma said as she stood up and ran over to give the man a hug. He smiled and hugged her back before leading them both back to the table. It was then he noticed there was a young guest sitting at the table watching curiously.

"Well, hello there my boy. Are you the boy my little girl has been carrying on about for the past three weeks?" he asked with a good-natured pat on the boy's back. He didn't seem to notice the way he flinched when he was touched as he sat down and unfolded the newspaper.

Bulma blushed a little and took her seat again. "Dad, this is Vegeta. Vegeta, this is my dad."

Dr. Brief inclined his head toward the boy and started reading the newspaper. Vegeta decided he liked the man the best out of the three people he'd met so far at Capsule Corporation. He was the only one not smothering him in attention and trying to talk to him as if he cared what they had to say. His thoughts were thrown off track when the last platter of food was set down on the table. Before him there was a large roast beef covered in gravy. It looked and smelled delicious and his mouth started watering.

The girl's mother sat down and the small family started serving themselves food and passing plates around, so Vegeta decided it was appropriate for him to begin eating. He hardly noticed their incredulous gawking as he piled a heaping pile of meat on his plate, drowned it in extra gravy, and started spooning roasted vegetables onto his plate as well.

They were still gawking when he started tearing into his food ravenously. He was much too focused on his food to notice them, though. Before they had even begun eating he was taking seconds, leaving hardly any food on the table. The Briefs seemed to realize that if they didn't hurry up and eat, they might not get anything at all because there seemed to be no stopping their guest from devouring everything available – including what was on their plates.

Vegeta was the first one finished. He sighed contentedly and rubbed his belly as he sat back in his chair. He certainly wasn't going to complain about the blonde woman anymore. She was a bubble-brain, but she could cook. For that, he would put up with her strange behavior for the duration of his stay at the compound.

"Oh, my," Mrs. Brief said with her hand raised to her mouth, "Surely you don't have room for dessert now, Vegeta?"

He quirked his eyebrow. "Dessert?"

Dr. Brief's mustache twitched when he heard the boy's thick accent. He remembered his daughter saying he didn't seem to understand or speak English. That was the first word he'd heard him speak, and he couldn't place the accent. He was as stumped about the boy's origins as his daughter was.

Mrs. Brief nodded like a bobble-head before standing up and prancing over to the refrigerator. She pulled out a two-layer chocolate cake with vanilla frosting. She brought it over to the table and cut a small slice, served it onto a plate, and handed it to Vegeta. He stared at it for a few moments, wondering what sort of food it was. He poked it with his finger and found that it was slightly spongy. When he sniffed it, it wasn't unpleasant. Actually, it smelled good. He picked up his fork and broke off a small piece of the cake and lifted it to his mouth.

His eyes widened when he was pleasantly surprised by the sweet substance melting on his tongue. He swallowed and finished his piece of cake before Mrs. Brief had finished cutting a piece for anyone else. The blonde woman giggled and gave him another piece and then served pieces to her husband, daughter, and herself. She took one bite before noticing Vegeta's eyes were looking from her to his empty plate expectantly.

"One more piece, that's all," she said as she put another slice of cake on his plate.

He grumbled something in his own language before quickly eating the cake. When he was done, he pushed his plate away and slid out of his chair. If there wasn't going to be any more food then he had no reason to stay around the humans. He went back upstairs to his own quarters where he could formulate his plan on how to get access to the laboratories of the corporation. Considering the fact that a form of identification was needed just to get in the front gate, the odds were that he would need some type of permission to enter the labs. He _could_ blast his way in, but that would risk damaging the materials he needed, so that option was out.

'I'll figure it out in the morning,' he thought. He yawned and stretched his arms over his head. It was time for him to go to bed if he wanted adequate sleep before his body inevitably woke before dawn.

_A/N: So I haven't actually finished another chapter, but I'm tired of college so I'm posting another chapter. So there. Take that, quantitative research project and student symposium presentation!_

_Review!_


	5. Language Barrier

Language Barrier

Vegeta pulled off his shirt and jeans and was about to get into bed when someone knocked on the door to his room. With a low growl, he walked over to the door and cracked it open to see who would be foolish enough to bother him. He saw the blue-haired girl smiling at him and reluctantly opened the door a little wider as an unspoken invitation for her to come in and say whatever she wanted to say so she would leave him alone.

Bulma took a step into the room before noticing the boy was only wearing boxers. She blushed a little and averted her eyes, suddenly finding the ceiling to be terribly interesting. "I'm going to bed now, Vegeta. I just wanted to tell you goodnight and if you need anything at all you can ask me for it. My room is right next to yours on the left."

He looked at her as if she had grown a second head. He couldn't imagine ever needing anything that _she_ could provide. But again, she misunderstood his expression and groaned. "I'm really sorry, Vegeta. I keep talking to you in English but I don't know what other language to use and I don't know how much you can understand and it's really frustrating trying to talk to you."

He rolled his eyes. He still hadn't decided how much of her language he wanted her to know he could understand and speak. Sometimes it was better to play dumb. It saved him from having to explain himself at the very least. He shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest.

She gave him a lopsided smile and backed toward the door. Her eyes were drawn to the muscles evident on his arms and chest. He was pretty skinny, but he wasn't lanky like a lot of young boys. Actually, considering his age, he looked pretty well-built. She wondered, perhaps for the first time, just how old her guest was. Judging by his height she would say not much older than her, by his eyes he could be an old man, and by his muscular frame a teenager. The pieces of her guest didn't seem to fit together to indicate an obvious age.

"How old are you?" she blurted out.

He frowned and quirked an eyebrow. 'Why does she want to know how old I am?' he wondered. 'Apparently this is another culture where age holds some significance. Idiots. Don't they know power is all that matters?'

Bulma sighed, thinking he hadn't understood her again. She stepped out the door and gave him a soft goodnight before closing the door and padding down the hall to her own room. He shook his head after her departure and went back over to the large bed and pulled the covers back. He sat on the edge of the bed and was about to lie down when there was another knock on the door.

With a more audible growl than before, he strode over to the door, fully expecting to find the blue-haired brat on the other side. He scowled and threw the door open, but instead of finding the girl, the man with the mustache was standing there and looking quite surprised by the ferocity with which he opened the door. Some of his anger ebbed away, but if he was going to be constantly interrupted when he was trying to get some sleep, he was going to have some serious problems staying with the Briefs.

"Sorry to disturb you, my boy," Dr. Brief said as he wandered into the guestroom. "I'm sure my daughter has already been in to tell you goodnight." He chuckled lightly when he saw the boy frown and glance in the direction of her bedroom. "Anyway, she's told me you don't speak our language, but I think you probably speak more than you let on. Or at least you understand it pretty well."

Vegeta's eyes widened a little. Still, he remained silent as he walked over to the bed and leaned against it with his arms crossed over his chest. "Pretty well?" he asked.

Dr. Brief stuffed his hands in the pockets of his rumpled lab coat and leaned against the bed next to the small boy. "Enough to know what I'm saying. You don't look like someone who doesn't know the language when you listen. I can see you understand it. You never look confused by what we say. I don't know if you're able to produce the language so well, but I know you know what we're saying."

"So?"

"Personally, I don't have a problem with it. If you don't want to talk, that's fine. What I'm worried about, for your sake, is how frustrated Bulma is going to get."

Vegeta shrugged one shoulder. He didn't care about the girl. Let her be upset when he didn't respond to her endless babbling, it didn't matter to him. "Why tell me this?"

Dr. Brief mirrored the boy and shrugged one shoulder. "Just thought I'd warn you that she's going to try to teach you the language." His mustache twitched with amusement when he heard the boy grumbling something under his breath in a language he'd never heard before. "What language is that?"

The boy's dark eyes looked up at him. There was suspicion evident in them. He looked away as he answered, "Saiya-go. It's a dead language."

"Saiya-go, hm? I've never heard of it. But then, I've never heard what you just spoke, so I'll take your word for it. Well, I'd best be off to bed. Goodnight, my boy. I'll see you in the morning." The amiable man slapped him on the back again and shuffled out of the room.

'Finally, I can get some sleep,' he thought as he stretched out on the bed and pulled the covers over himself.

Seven hours after he finally got to sleep, Vegeta woke up. He leaped out of bed in a low crouch and surveyed his surroundings for enemies. He didn't recognize where he was for a moment before he remembered he was in the room given to him by the strange blonde woman at Capsule Corporation. He relaxed and stood up straight, shaking the last of his disorientation from his head. He yawned and walked to the bathroom to rid himself of the tension in his bladder and wash his face before finding a suitable place to train.

He walked back into the bedroom and, seeing his armor hadn't been returned to him yet, went to the bureau of drawers and rifled through some of the clothes in them. None of them felt like they were made of material that could withstand a ki blast or absorb the impact of a strong blow, but he didn't expect to find such things on a planet of plebeians. He sighed and pulled out a pair of dark blue shorts and a white tank sleeveless shirt. They would have to do for now.

Fully dressed, Vegeta crept out of his room and went downstairs to explore the compound a little. He never liked being anywhere for long without knowing his surroundings by heart. The compound was silent, indicating there was no one else awake. It was still very early in the morning, long before dawn. Likely the humans would be asleep for at least another hour. He was grateful for their weakness making them need more sleep than him. That made it easier for him to check the place out and see what it had to offer without needing a 'tour' from one of the bumbling fools.

He found that the compound was even larger than it looked from the outside. The halls seemed to wind for miles and before long he was so turned around he didn't know where he was anymore. When he walked past the same set of double doors for the third time, he stopped and leaned against the wall, his tail flicking between his legs. He was irritated with himself for getting lost and embarrassed that he didn't know how to get back to a familiar room.

'Great. Now what am I supposed to do?' Vegeta shrugged and pushed away from the wall. He was supposed to be exploring, right? He stepped over to the large double doors and pushed them open to see what lay behind. What he found confused him.

He cautiously padded into the room and sniffed the air. He could smell animals even though he couldn't see them. He had no idea why there was a forest indoors. He'd never seen anything like it before. Along with animals he smelled flowers, some fruit, and moss. The air was different, too, sort of humid and hot. He heard water running and birds in the trees. Had he not known any better, he would have thought he was outside, somewhere far from civilization.

'Strange,' he thought, 'Why put a forest inside?' He looked up and saw that the high ceiling was made of glass so the room was only lit by natural light. He didn't know how large the place was because his view of the far wall was blocked by the trees, but he figured it must be quite spacious.

Well, he had been searching for a large space, and he found one. His tail whipped behind him a few times before coiling around his waist. It was time to train – he'd already wasted half an hour wandering through the compound. He sank into a fighting stance and started his kata.

At 6:15AM Dr. Brief woke up and got out of bed. After showering and dressing he went downstairs to the indoor garden where he liked to come up with his ideas for new inventions. Over the years it had become a sort of daily ritual for him. It was relaxing to ride his bicycle around and feed the stray animals he and his wife rescued and kept inside.

When he reached the doors, he was startled by the sound of an explosion coming from inside and the ground started shaking. Bracing himself against the wall, he waited for the shaking to stop.

'Oh shit. That's not good,' Vegeta thought as he landed on the ground and looked at the large hold in the wall. His ki ball had gotten out of control and hit the wall instead of harmlessly colliding with another ki blast, which hit him in his second of distraction. He rubbed his burnt shoulder and winced in pain. His head whipped around when he heard the doors open and momentarily panicked.

Dr. Brief shuffled into the garden and calmly looked around, remaining composed even when he saw the large, smoldering hole in the wall. His mustache twitched as he walked closer to assess the damage.

Vegeta crouched down and noiselessly slinked deeper into the forest. He didn't want this little incident to get him kicked out. He climbed into one of the taller trees and crept out onto a branch where he could get a better view of the lavender-haired man.

"Well, that's odd," Dr. Brief muttered. "What would have caused this?" He turned around and looked through the trees but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Shrugging, he walked over to where he kept his bicycle and mounted it, then proceeded to ride around in a figure eight.

The boy heard him absent-mindedly humming to himself and shook his head. The old man was maybe as insane as the females. He found a gaping hole in his home and thought nothing of it. Still, that didn't mean he was going to confess to causing it. He sat on the branch and waited for Dr. Brief to finish his strange ritual and leave so he could get out unnoticed. But the minutes dragged on and soon an hour had passed and it didn't appear as though he was any closer to finishing. Vegeta was growing impatient. Sitting still for so long was not enjoyable for him.

He growled and his tail started flicking agitatedly. He hadn't been able to finish his morning training and now he didn't know if he'd ever get the chance. With an exasperated sigh he crawled back to the trunk of the tree and leaned against it. He closed his eyes and calmed his mind to meditate.

Another half hour passed before Dr. Brief got off his bike and wandered into the forest to visit his pets. Had he turned his attention to the branches above, he might have seen Vegeta, but he was focused on petting the various animals that gathered around him seeking attention. He was stroking the tiger when the doors opened again.

"Honey, breakfast is ready!" Mrs. Brief's shrill voice called through the trees.

The sudden noise jolted Vegeta out of his meditative state. He jumped and nearly fell out of the tree, saved only by his tail catching him by wrapping around the branch. Hanging upside down, he could see the doctor under him and quickly dropped down to the next branch and tried to hide himself. Much to his relief, he drew no attention as Dr. Brief put his hands in his pockets and walked back out of the forest and left the room.

Vegeta climbed down to the ground and ran to the doors. He didn't know what breakfast was, but he was going to find out. He cracked the door open and peeked out. No one was around. He stepped out into the hall and quietly shut the door behind him. It was only then that he noticed the scent of food thick in the air. His stomach immediately growled. 'That must be breakfast,' he concluded. He didn't remember how to get back to the kitchen, so he let his nose guide him and he found himself in the kitchen a few minutes later. Dr. Brief was already in there sitting at the table reading a newspaper. There was a pile of waffles and a skillet full of scrambled eggs on the table. Not much for the boy's appetite.

Vegeta walked over to the table and sat down in the same chair he sat in the night before. He didn't want to wait to eat, but still he thought it might be considered rude to eat before the others. He figured he was still walking on thin ice; after all, he couldn't understand genuine compassion so he had no idea that the Briefs would never make him leave, especially over something so trivial.

He turned when he heard the door open and Bulma – looking barely awake – trudged in followed by her mother. "I couldn't find Vegeta to tell him breakfast is ready," Mrs. Brief was telling her daughter.

Dr. Brief lowered his newspaper and noticed for the first time the missing guest was already present. He chuckled and raised his paper again. "He's right here, dear."

"Oh! You're already up!" Mrs. Brief went over to her young guest and gave him a good morning kiss on the forehead, which he disgustedly rubbed off. "Well, then, let's eat!"

Mrs. Brief was the last to sit down. She started serving food onto the others' plates before helping herself. The Briefs didn't seem quite as surprised this time when Vegeta wolfed down his food in a fraction of the time it took them to eat.

When breakfast was finished, Vegeta stood up to leave. He had more exploring to do if he hoped to find a way to get what he needed. Knowing the layout of the compound was necessary for any sort of plan to work. He was stopped when a small hand grabbed his arm. He tried to shake it off, but it held fast.

"Wait, Vegeta," Bulma said. "Do you want me to show you around?"

He stared at her. She was about the last person he wanted to spend more than five minutes with. Finally, he yanked his arm free and stalked out of the kitchen. He didn't have time for her silly games anyway. He was on a mission and no one was going to delay him. Especially not some idiot brat who wouldn't stop trying to talk to him and kept touching him. If there were two things he hated, they were talking and being touched. Hence, she really grated on his nerves.

Bulma watched him leave and stamped her foot. "Why does he have to be like that? He knows I can't speak whatever language he speaks, but he doesn't even try to figure out what I'm saying!"

Dr. Brief chuckled and shook his head. He saw this tantrum coming a mile away. He turned the page of his newspaper and continued reading while his wife cleared the dishes off the table and carried them to the sink. "Bulma, dear, go on and get ready for school. You don't want to be late again," she said.

The blue-haired girl grumbled as she left the kitchen and went back upstairs to her bedroom. School was the last thing on her mind. At least it was Friday. The last day before the weekend. She went into her bathroom and took a quick shower and dried herself with a towel. She wrapped it around herself and went back into her room to find suitable clothes. She threw on a pink t-shirt and a pair of jeans, grabbed her backpack, and walked out of her room and straight into a very sturdy body.

'I really need to watch where I'm going.' She looked up and saw that it was Vegeta who she had run into. Again. "Sorry about that. I don't look where I'm going when I'm in a hurry." She skirted around him and went downstairs when she got no verbal response. She was really starting to hate the way he never said anything. It made her nervous.

He snorted when she was out of hearing range and went back into his guestroom. He knew he couldn't continue playing dumb forever, especially if the girl really did try teaching him her language. Anyway, it would be difficult to get the information he needed if he was still pretending not to be able to understand or speak their language. Apparently the old man already knew he understood more than he let on, so maybe he could limit himself to communicating with him intelligibly.

Vegeta went downstairs a while later to find the old man. He heard the girl running around frantically, for what reason he couldn't fathom. The blonde woman was in the kitchen singing horribly off-key in her screeching voice, but there was the sound of pots and pans clattering so he figured he could get used to it. Her cooking definitely made up for all her other defects. Even though his ears felt like they were going to bleed.

It didn't take long to find the old man. He was pacing around a room that appeared to serve no purpose. There was a bunch of furniture to sit in and a strange black box sitting in the middle of a big cabinet-like thing. Did people just go in there to sit? Pitiful. He walked into the room and was nearly trampled by the man who was thoughtfully rubbing his chin and muttering to himself as he mentally worked through the physics that prevented his latest model of hovercars from working properly.

Vegeta growled when he was walked into for the second time that morning. He was starting to wonder if humans' eyes actually functioned or if they were there for show. The tip of his tail twitched and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Oh, Vegeta," Dr. Brief said, "I didn't see you there. Was there something you wanted?"

The boy rolled his eyes before answering, "Who is in charge of this corporation?"

Dr. Briefs blinked a few times, baffled. "Why, that would be me, my boy."

This time it was Vegeta who was baffled. He groaned and slumped his shoulders forward. He actually thought he would find a technological genius, but all he found was a bunch of nutcases who couldn't see someone standing right in front of them. They were idiots! So much for his plan to find help repairing his space pod. He wasn't entirely willing to give up his hope yet, though.

"You know mechanics?"

"That's my specialty," Dr. Briefs boasted. "Though I have been having trouble with the new line of hovercars…"

Vegeta's eyebrow quirked when the man's voice trailed off into inaudible mumbling. He sighed and considered leaving. He didn't have time for this nonsense. He grumbled to himself and sighed again.

"Is something the matter?" Dr. Briefs asked after having noticed the boy's glum look.

He didn't answer for a minute, too busy considering whether it would be worth the trouble. Finally, he shrugged and tried to explain his predicament. "I need tools and materials to repair my…" He didn't know what to call his space pod in the human's language. "… dhastrot and I wanted help and thought someone here could assist me."

"Your what? I've never heard of a dhastrot," Dr. Briefs said, mutilating the pronunciation of the foreign word.

Vegeta ran his hand through his hair as he tried to keep his frustration in check. It was hard enough speaking their dumb language well enough for them to understand through his accent. Now he didn't have a word for what he was describing and doubted there was any good translation. "Never mind what it is. I need tools to fix it."

Dr. Brief stroked his mustache. "I suppose I could lend you some. But what kind of tools?"

Vegeta didn't notice he was grinding his teeth until he heard it. He took a deep breath and calmed himself down. "What do you have?"

"Oh, just about anything you'd ever need for a mechanical repair," Dr. Brief said as he gestured for the boy to follow him toward his laboratory.

In the lab, Vegeta quickly found the tools he would need to fix his broken space pod. He still didn't have all the materials he needed, but he would get them soon enough. New wiring would be required as well as plates made out of a metal tough enough to withstand speeds faster than light, the intense heat caused by friction as it falls through a planet's atmosphere, and the impact of hitting the ground. It wouldn't hurt to get more oxygen, too, to be on the safe side.

Dr. Brief watched in fascination as the boy searched through his tools – many of which even he had forgotten the purpose of – and pulled out the ones he would need. The boy definitely wasn't uneducated. Even when he spoke he had the air of being very cultured. He didn't say much, but what he said was clear, concise, and eloquent, considering his age.

Satisfied that he had all he would need, Vegeta picked up the assortment of tools and got ready to carry them out.

"Hold on, why don't you put those in a capsule so you don't have to carry them like that?" Dr. Brief asked.

Vegeta stopped in his tracks and looked up at the scientist with a frown. He figured this 'capsule' business had something to do with the corporation's name, but he still didn't know what exactly a capsule was. "A capsule?"

"Like this," Dr. Brief said, then took a tiny object out of his lab coat pocket and handed it to Vegeta. "Push the plunger down and throw it on the ground."

Vegeta did as he was told and jumped back when it exploded in a puff of smoke. It was like the things he saw the humans using when they were leaving the compound the day before. When the smoke cleared a few seconds later he saw a small carrying case of sorts where the capsule had been moments before. He poked it with his toe and leaped back when it fell over. His tail bristled when he heard the old man laughing.

"Jumpy, aren't you?" he asked. He bent over and opened the carrying case. "Put your tools in here."

Slowly, Vegeta stepped closer and set his tools inside. Dr. Brief shut it and pointed out a button on the side that he hadn't noticed before. "When you push this, it'll capsulate and then you've got all your things in one tiny device you can put in your pocket. Sure beats lugging around larger cases, wouldn't you say?" He pushed the button and where the case had been there was once again a small capsule lying on the floor. Vegeta was dumbfounded.

"You created these?" he asked, picking up the capsule and turning it over in his hand.

"That's right. It took me years but I finally figured out how to do it. But the how is a secret," he added with a wink.

'Impressive,' Vegeta admitted, if only to himself. 'Maybe he's not as crazy as I thought.' He looked back at the smiling man and reconsidered. 'No, he's crazy, but maybe you have to be crazy to think of something like this.'

He nodded and put the capsule in his pocket. "I need to get started. Will I be able to get back in?"

"Back in?"

"My…dhastrot. It's not here. I have to go to it."

"Oh! You mean back into the compound. Yes, you'll need an ID to get in. Come over here, let me make you one." The absent-minded man led the boy over to a desk that had a computer. He sat down and opened a program that linked him with the security system of the compound and in a few short minutes he had taken a picture of the newest resident of Capsule Corp and had him all set up with his own ID card.

As soon as he learned how to get back into the compound, Vegeta left to go back to his space pod and figure out what to do with it. He had the tools, but he was lacking the materials. He would need to take a careful look at the damage and see how much of what he would need. His hopes were raised again. If that fool Dr. Brief could create something as ingenious as the capsules then he could surely help him repair the pod if he found he couldn't do it by himself.

Bulma banged her head against her desk as she sat through yet another tortuous session of detention. She was more eager than usual to get back home so she could see Vegeta again. He was a bit on the abrasive side, but for some reason that made her more interested in him. He was a puzzle, an enigma that she was determined to figure out. And how better to figure the puzzle out than to break down the language barrier? She was going to teach him English if it killed her.

The only problem was, she had no idea how to go about teaching English to him. She didn't know how much he already knew and she couldn't remember learning it herself so she didn't have experience to go off of in her 'lesson planning.' Would he pick up the language faster if he saw it written down? Or would it be better to teach him to read and write after he could speak and understand it fairly well? Maybe it would be easier to just have him teach her _his_ language. She was a genius, after all. How hard could learning his language, whatever it is, be?

Realistically, very hard. Especially if she couldn't figure out how to tell him that's what she wanted.

Bulma sat back in her seat and frowned at the open notebook in front of her. She'd been trying to plan out a way to get past the language barrier, but she really didn't know how. Ideas sounded good in her head, but in practice they weren't very practical. 'Maybe if I knew a little more about linguistics…I'll look some stuff up when I get home.'

Nearly an hour later Bulma raced home, bent on the mission of going to the library and finding any books about language she could get her hands on. Maybe she'd even be able to figure out what language Vegeta spoke so she could learn some of the basics and have that to her advantage when trying to communicate with him. She stopped at the front gate, swiped her ID card, and went into the compound as the gate opened. There was no time to waste; curiosity was gnawing at her mind and she _needed_ to know more about her surly houseguest.

She ran into the compound, throwing her backpack and shoes off next to the front door, and continued through the winding halls until she came to a stop in front of a set of large wood doors. She pushed them open, flipped the light switch, and looked around at the library. Her plan, again, was great in her head, but impractical in reality. She had no idea where to look for books about linguistics. And it wasn't as if they had a card catalogue or anything. She sighed and started her search for any literature that might be helpful to her cause.

While she was in the library, Vegeta returned from his trip to inspect his space pod. He used his ID to get back into the compound and headed for the kitchen. He hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast, and since that hadn't actually been enough to fill him up, he was very hungry. He didn't know if the blonde woman would give him any more food before dinner, but he was more than willing to steal something if he had to. The pangs of hunger made him irritable.

In the kitchen, Mrs. Brief was busy preparing dinner. She was basting the turkey she had in the oven when Vegeta walked in. "Hello, Vegeta. I heard you went out today. Are you hungry? You missed lunch."

The boy, who had been on his way to the refrigerator where he saw food come from the night before, turned and looked up at her. 'How does she see me if she never opens her eyes?' he wondered. 'That backs up my theory that human eyes don't actually do anything.' He realized she asked him a question, but she spouted it off so fast it was hard for him to keep up. His eyebrows knit together as he mentally rehearsed what she said over in his mind.

"Here," Mrs. Brief interrupted his thoughts, "I'll give you a snack before dinner. Wouldn't want to ruin your appetite!" She crossed the room to dig something out of the refrigerator for her young guest. She pulled out a bottle of water, an apple, and a small block of cheese. "Here you go, honey."

Vegeta frowned at the small amount of food but accepted it nonetheless. He wouldn't turn it down even if it were only a crumb. He took his food and sat at the kitchen table and ate his snack with gusto. He decided he liked the sweet fruit and the salty yellow substance, whatever it was. Maybe there would be more where that came from. He gulped down the bottle of water and hopped out of his chair and sneaked back to the refrigerator.

"Now, Vegeta," Mrs. Brief admonished, "You'll have to wait until dinner." She grabbed him by the shoulders and shooed him out of the kitchen, ignoring his angry protests. He could have blasted her into another dimension, but he _was_ looking forward to dinner, so he resisted the urge to settle his disagreement with violence. With a huff, he turned away when the kitchen door shut behind him.

He scowled and stalked off to go to his guestroom. He was almost there when he heard someone rapidly approaching him from behind. He growled and whirled around, coming face to face with the girl. 'Now what does she want?'

"Vegeta, I've been looking all over for you!" she exclaimed breathlessly. "Come with me, I want to teach you English so we can actually talk."

So, the old man hadn't been exaggerating. She really was a persistent little whelp. He didn't want to see what form of lessons she had planned, but he decided to give in anyway. If nothing else he could get some amusement out of it at her expense. It would pass the time until dinner. Besides, in all honesty it wouldn't hurt to have a firmer grasp on the language so he could communicate more effectively when he actually needed to. Not that he planned on sticking around long enough to need an extensive vocabulary. He followed her into her room and sat with her at her desk as she opened a notebook and started writing the symbols he'd come to recognize as the alphabet. He sighed. This was going to take a while.

_A/N: So, yeah, they speak English in my fic because, frankly, I don't know Japanese and I'm not going to pretend this is Japanese when it's not. And I'm definitely not going to insert random Japanese words just to make it seem more "authentic" or whatever. I finally finished writing another chapter. It's pretty long, and I've had little time to work on it lately, so it took me over a week. Usually I can write a chapter in an hour or two...sigh. Oh well. Review!_


	6. Teacher

Teacher

Three weeks passed since Vegeta's first English lesson, courtesy of Bulma Brief. She was rather proud of herself for putting together miniature lesson plans for her to use in teaching the homeless boy. She could tell he was picking it up quickly, but she still couldn't get him to use more than three words at a time, usually. When he did speak, he still had a thick accent that sometimes made it hard to understand him, and most times what he said wasn't very nice.

It was when he would snap at her with some snide, biting remark that she wished she hadn't taught him English. At least when he said it in his own language she didn't know what he was saying so it didn't hurt so much. But at least now when she talked to him she knew he could understand at least part of what she said. She finally got him to tell her that when she talked too fast he had a difficult time understanding her, so she made it a point to speak slowly and clearly when addressing him.

Vegeta learned the alphabet easily enough, but putting the letters together to form words was proving slightly more difficult. He knew what the words were; he could use them and comprehend them when someone else said them, but he wasn't taking to writing as fast. He was working hard to master it, though. Initially he hadn't cared, but his curiosity and propensity for learning was getting the better of him and now he actually looked forward to his daily lessons with the blue-haired girl. She proved to be a better teacher than he would have given her credit for at the outset.

But despite his interest in learning the language, he was more interested in focusing on the language that would help him achieve his goal of leaving the insignificant mudball as soon as possible. He tried to express this to the girl, but she continued trying to teach him useless words, like what different articles of clothing were called, or what the colors were. He didn't care if he was wearing a yellow t-shirt, he wanted to inquire about which metals were the best conductors on the planet and whether those metals were easily shaped into wires.

"Are you even paying attention?" Bulma asked when her pupil wasn't looking at the words she was writing anymore. His mind always seemed to wander when she got to grammar.

"No."

She sighed and put her pen down. If he wasn't going to listen, there was no point in trying to teach him. She was starting to get an inkling of an idea as to why her teachers at school seemed to always be so frustrated with her. She never paid attention and yet she knew the material perfectly. There was no point in teaching someone who already knew the subject in and out. Over the past three weeks she had come to realize that Vegeta was an incredibly intelligent boy. In fact, she wondered if maybe he really _was_ as smart as her.

"What're you thinking about?" she asked.

Vegeta shrugged. Even if he cared to answer he didn't know how to say it yet. She hadn't exactly gotten around to teaching him the terms he needed to explain mechanics and physics to her without a substantial spattering of Saiya-go mixed in. She'd be just as clueless at the end of his attempt to communicate as she was at the present time.

That was another thing she had picked up about him. He acted indifferent to answering when really he didn't know how to answer. Of course there were times when she _knew_ he knew how to answer and chose not to, but that was irrelevant. Knowing he didn't have the words to use yet helped her stay patient with him when their conversations became more one-sided than usual.

Bulma drummed her fingers on the desk and watched her houseguest as he crossed his arms over his chest and gazed out the window. He was clearly somewhere else mentally. She wished he would open up more. He never talked about his life before she met him, which was obviously the better part of his life. He was reserved, if not downright secretive. It bugged her. She was very curious about him and wanted to ask him so many questions she knew he would never bother answering.

"You know, if you get your reading and writing down, you could probably go to school with me," she said as she packed her notebook in her backpack.

He quirked an eyebrow and snorted. "Why would I want to do that?"

"My parents will probably make you go eventually. If you're going to live with us then they'll want you to get a good education. They already think of you as part of the family. If they make me go to school, you'll end up having to go too."

"Not happening." He stood up and cracked his neck. He'd been sitting too long again.

Bulma sighed. She didn't want to tell him that she was really hoping he would go to school with her. She was tired of everyone there being mean to her all the time. Sure, he was mean to her, but for some reason it didn't bother her. It somehow seemed to fit him, like it was his personality to be a jerk to everyone, not just her. In some ways, his gruffness was starting to become so familiar to her that she wouldn't want him any other way. She and her parents took him as they found him and weren't in a hurry to change him.

"Why do you always wear that weird belt?" she asked off-handedly.

"Belt?"

She sighed dramatically. "Vegeta, I taught you the words for clothes. I know you know what a belt is."

"I'm not wearing one, you stupid girl."

"Yes you are," she said, reaching out to touch the furry brown belt around his waist.

He growled and backed out of reach. "Don't touch that."

"What's the big deal?" she demanded, standing up and putting her hands on her hips.

"It's not a belt!"

"Then what is it?"

Slowly, Vegeta uncurled his tail from around his waist and flicked it behind him a few times so she could see it. Her eyes widened and jaw dropped. With a smirk, he coiled his tail back around his waist. His smirk soon faded when she started screaming. He clamped his hands over his ears and shouted, "Girl, shut up!"

Bulma backpedaled away until she was pressed against the wall behind her. "You have a tail!" she screeched.

"You think I don't know that?" he roared over her screaming.

Her mouth snapped shut and she looked at him with fear in her eyes. She'd never heard of anyone having a tail before. Not a long, furry monkey tail, anyway. It was creepy. She knew there were some strange things about the boy, but she never thought he had a tail. She'd seen what she always assumed to be a belt around his waist. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined it was really a prehensile tail.

"Stupid girl," he muttered in Saiya-go.

Bulma managed to calm herself down enough to sit down in her chair and stare levelly at the boy who had a tail. He'd had it all along and she never noticed. 'Wow, I'm observant,' she mocked herself. In her defense, he never unwrapped it from his waist around anyone for them to see that it was a tail.

"Sorry," she murmured, "I guess I just really didn't expect that. Why do you have a tail, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I was born with it, idiot."

"Oh. Right." Bulma rubbed the back of her neck. She felt really dumb now.

Vegeta looked at the clock on the girl's bedside table and groaned. It was late enough in the morning that he wouldn't be able to leave to work on his space pod and make it back on time for lunch. The girl had wasted his entire morning with her frivolous lesson about subject-verb agreement and the names of furniture. Now he would have to wait until after lunch to go work on his space pod. Not that there was much he could do with it. So far he'd only been able to isolate the problems and make minor repairs with what little he had to work with. At the rate he was going, it would be a few months before he could leave. That fact left him feeling irritable more often than not.

'Well,' he figured, 'I might as well do something with my time before lunch.' He shrugged and sat down at the desk to continue his English lesson.

Still unnerved by the fact that her student had a tail, Bulma took a while to get back into the swing of teaching him, but soon enough she was so absorbed in her lesson that she'd forgotten her little scare. Through her experience with Vegeta she figured out that she really enjoyed teaching. It gave her a sense of accomplishment seeing another person's success that she'd never had before. So when her mother called upstairs to tell them lunch was ready, she was a bit disappointed because she knew he wouldn't want any more lessons after eating. He had a habit of leaving the compound for extended periods of time, so she would have to find something else to do on her Saturday afternoon.

Vegeta immediately shot up from his seat and raced downstairs for lunch. He was hungry and eager to find out what the crazy woman cooked. It was something new and fascinatingly delicious every day, and she had finally caught on to the fact that he needed an incredible amount of food to be satisfied. At first she thought he ate as much as he did because he hadn't been getting enough to eat while living on the streets, but after over a week of his voracious appetite she decided it was natural for him to eat so much. And, of course, she was more than willing to cater to his dietary needs.

As soon as he was finished eating his lunch, Vegeta left the kitchen and went upstairs to his room to grab the capsule with his tools in it and his ID card. He wanted to get to his space pod and resume work as soon as possible, but luck wasn't on his side when he walked back out of his room and bumped into the blue-haired girl.

"Where you going?" she asked, stuffing her hands in her pockets.

"Out."

"Where?"

"Away," he growled as he pushed past her. She was nearly knocked off her feet by the force of his shove.

"I can see you're putting my lessons to good use," she snapped. "You're so fluent."

The tip of his tail twitched with his irritation as he stalked down the hall and went downstairs. He had no reason to explain himself to her. She was too nosey for her own good. Outside, he checked to see if there was anyone around, and, seeing no one, blasted off into the sky on his way to his space pod.

Bulma pouted when Vegeta didn't bother shooting back a clever comeback. It was a lot more fun talking to him when he was showering her with snide remarks than when he chose to give her the silent treatment. Her shoulders slumped as she stomped into her room. Now was as good a time as any to get her homework for Monday done. With that finished she would be free to design a new device that she could attach to the bottoms of her shoes that would spring her up so she could actually reach things. She was going to defeat her shortness one way or another.

Vegeta landed next to his space pod ten minutes later and circled around it. It was still untouched, which meant no snoopy humans had found it yet. That was another thing he was concerned about with the length of time it would take him to get it functioning again. Knowing the idiot race he was dwelling with, they would take too much interest in it and confiscate it or whatever and then he'd have to find where they took it and have a big mess on his hands. If only there was a way to put his pod in a capsule, then he could take it with him everywhere and never need to worry about anyone finding it. It would also save him the daily trips away from the compound. But he knew that wasn't possible. It wasn't built to go into a capsule.

He sat down in the space pod and pulled the control panel open to see what he could get done without new wires. He'd already taken care of most of the external damage since finding out what the best metal alloy the planet had to offer was. He cringed, remembering the horrible time he had trying to explain what he needed to the old man. He finally got the gist across that he needed something very hard and durable and was provided with small plates of carbon steel. It wasn't as hard as the metal his pod was made from, but it was sufficient.

Though, it had taken him several hours to get the metal hammered to the shape he needed, and by then he had to return to the compound for dinner. The next day he spent the whole afternoon welding the steel onto his space pod, which was made more difficult because he had to preheat it first and then cool it. Luckily, he was able to use a controlled beam of ki to do the welding, which simplified the process somewhat. Had he resorted to using the tools available, it would have taken him at least twice as long.

With the exterior of his pod patched up, all he had to focus on was the interior, which was where most of the problems were in the first place. It was also what he knew the least about, which was only going to make his task harder because he had to learn from the frazzled remains of the wiring. And, knowing his luck, it would be more than just short-circuited wires that were causing trouble. Most likely he would need to entirely replace some parts, and where he was going to get workable parts was a mystery to him. He would probably have to create them from scratch using the old parts as models. Electronics were not his strong point, so he really wasn't looking forward to seeing what all needed to be done before he could get himself back to a base planet and get a new, more reliable pod.

Vegeta groaned when he looked over the inside of the control panel. It wasn't a pretty sight. Several wires were melted together so he could hardly see which went where originally. The coordinate system was burnt to a crisp, so it would need to be replaced. He shook his head slowly, not even sure how to go about fixing that. 'What else could possibly have gone wrong?'

He pulled open a small compartment in the floor of the pod and growled when he saw the fuel line was damaged. Until he got that fixed, assuming he got everything else done, he would never be able to leave the mudball. Without fuel there was no getting the space pod off the ground. At least it wouldn't be a _terribly_ difficult repair to make. He sighed. Things just seemed to get better and better…

'I don't even feel like bothering with this today,' he thought. He was a warrior, not a mechanic or computer engineer or whatever. He knew fighting, not computers. Not that he wasn't capable of learning, but he never cared to before and now he was regretting neglecting that part of his informal education. Informal in that he generally taught himself everything he knew through reading, observing, and experimenting. It looked like now he had a perfect opportunity for the experimenting method, but unfortunately the stakes were pretty high if he failed miserably.

Vegeta sat back in the seat and scowled at the bare wires. He sighed and rubbed his temples. He wasn't going to make any progress at this rate. He was completely stumped on how to go about making the necessary repairs. He picked up his scouter from the floor of the pod and turned it over in his hands a few times. It was broken too. And it was basically his only lifeline. If he could get it fixed, maybe he could contact a technician who would be able to walk him through how to repair his pod. Not that the technicians were ever very helpful. He knew they liked lording their 'power' over him by playing dumb and refusing to provide him information he needed. It was the only way they could make themselves feel superior to a mere child. At least he'd been able to get one last transmission through before he crash-landed on Earth.

'Maybe the old man can help me fix this.' Vegeta clutched the scouter tightly in his hand and got out of his space pod, sealed the door shut, and took a few steps away before jumping into the air and flying back toward West City. He hadn't spent much time out that day, but he had a new plan of action that didn't require his absence from the compound.

He landed a block away from the compound and walked the rest of the way, not wanting anyone to know he could fly. He reached the front gate and swiped his ID card and went in when the gate opened for him. He headed straight for Dr. Brief's lab, hoping to catch him between projects so he might be willing to take a look at his scouter without being distracted. Not that the absent-minded genius was ever truly _not_ distracted. He always had something on his mind. Or maybe his mind was just gone off somewhere else. Either way, Vegeta needed him to focus and figure out how to fix his scouter so he could get on with the repairs on his pod.

Vegeta found Dr. Brief tinkering around with an old robot in his laboratory and sighed. He was beginning to think the scientist never took a break from some kind of work. He walked over to where the man was hunched over the robot and tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. He'd found out early on that speaking was not the most effective way to gain Dr. Brief's attention, so he had to resort to touching him.

"Hm? Oh, Vegeta, my boy! What do you need?" Dr. Brief asked as he straightened his back and stretched after being bent over for quite a while.

Vegeta held his scouter out to him. "I need this fixed."

"What's this?" Dr. Brief asked, holding the scouter in one hand and stroking his mustache with the other. "Remarkable. What an interesting device. I've never seen anything like it before." He turned it over in his hand a few times before laying it down on the work table and unscrewing the small plate that gave him access to the scouter's inner workings.

"Can you fix it?" Vegeta asked impatiently.

"I'm not sure," Dr. Brief replied. He grabbed a magnifier to better be able to see all the intricacies of the scouter. "It's sustained a lot of damage. Is this your dhastrot?"

"No. I can't bring that here."

"I see. Well, to be honest, I don't know how to fix this, Vegeta. Maybe you could show it to Bulma. She might be able to figure it out." He handed the scouter back to its owner.

Vegeta looked at the old man incredulously as he snatched the scouter back. "Why would I show it to _her? _That girl has fewer brains than a worm!"

Dr. Brief chuckled and shook his head. "Do you really think so? I wouldn't be lying if I told you she's smarter than me when it comes to this type of thing. I'm more interested in mechanics, but her specialty is computers. If she doesn't know what to do to fix that thing, then I'd say you're out of luck."

Vegeta frowned as he remembered the conversation that ignited his interest in Capsule Corporation in the first place. The girl the men on the street were talking about was supposed to take over the company eventually. She was a kid and a genius. Well, wouldn't it make sense for the president of the company's daughter be the brilliant mind they were talking about? Vegeta never would have guessed it was her even though the connection was staring him in the face. She was such a brainless girl, how could she be a genius? But then, Dr. Brief was a tad eccentric, he could easily be mistaken for an idiot rather than a genius, too. Perhaps it ran in the family to be so smart they were actually rather stupid.

"Very well," he muttered. "I'll go find the brat."

The boy stalked out of the lab and returned to the residential area of the compound, hoping to run across the blue-haired girl. She was nowhere to be found, which exasperated him greatly. The one time he actually wanted her around she was missing. Figured. He stopped at the foot of the stairs and crossed his arms over his chest. "Girl!" he hollered, "Where are you?"

Bulma was jerked from her thoughts when she heard Vegeta screaming at her from downstairs. She toppled her chair over in her haste to go find out what the problem was; honestly, it had to be important if he was bothering to yell for her since he'd never done it before. She ran to the head of the stairs and stopped herself before she fell down them.

"What?" she demanded when she saw him standing there scowling at her.

"I require… help," he spat disgustedly. It was humiliating having to lower himself to ask for her assistance.

Bulma started down the stairs at a slower pace now that she saw he wasn't in desperate need of help. "With what?"

He waited until she reached the bottom of the stairs before he thrust the scouter into her hands. "Fixing this."

"Oh." Bulma held the strange gadget up and looked over it. "What is it?"

Vegeta hesitated in his answer. It seemed so natural to spout off the word he used for it, but she wouldn't understand. He shrugged. "A communicator."

She raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't look like any communicator I've ever seen," she mumbled mostly to herself. Then, addressing her guest, "Well, I'll see what I can do. Let's go to my dad's lab and we can see what's wrong with it."

He grunted his assent and followed her back to the lab. She sat down on a stool at one of the empty work tables and popped the scouter open so she could examine it. Like her father, she required the use of a magnifier to see what all was going on inside. "Wow, this is amazing. Where did you get this?" she asked as she continued her inspection of the broken device.

"It was given to me," he answered shortly. He wasn't about to explain why he was issued a scouter. It came with being a soldier in the tyrant lizard's army.

She seemed to accept his answer as she whistled when she saw the extent of the damage. She set it aside and sat back with her arms braced against the edge of the table. "Well, the good news is I can fix it," she said, watching his face for any reaction. She was disappointed as his carefully guarded features remained stoic. "The bad news is, it's going to take a long time. This is the most advanced technology I've ever seen and to top it off, it's tiny. But I can show you what I'm doing so if you need to repair it again someday you'll know how."

He nodded in agreement. If she really could do it, and she wasn't just bluffing, it would be good to know what to do if there was a next time. He didn't want to find himself in the same position of helplessness again. There was one thing that was bothering him though. "How long is a long time?"

Bulma blushed a little. "Around two months, give or take…"

"Two months?" he screamed.

"Hey," she yelled back, "I never said it was going to be easy!"

"You insufferable…" he trailed off in a stream of curses from as many languages as he knew. He knew he should be grateful that it was going to be fixed at all, but he had hoped it would take two months to fix the scouter _and_ the space pod.

Bulma sighed and waited for his tantrum to pass so she could start with the repairs and walk him through it so he would have a firm understanding of how to fix it himself. Finally, after fuming for a few minutes and pacing back and forth through the lab, Vegeta returned to the girl's side and crossed his arms over his chest with a deep scowl.

"Stop wasting time, girl. Start working."

She rolled her eyes. "So sorry to hold you up, your highness."

'If only you knew,' he thought. He shook his head and pulled up a stool to sit next to her while she explained the basics: what the function of each part was.

The two kids spent the next two hours hunched over the scouter and by the end of it the only progress that had been made was identifying the parts and figuring out which wires went where and why. Vegeta was somewhat disappointed that they didn't get more done, but at least he was learning thoroughly. Again he was struck by how well the girl taught. She wasn't at all condescending and remained patient with him when she had to work around the lingering language barrier.

"I'm going to have to study this a little more before I can figure out what all needs to be done," Bulma said through a yawn. "I'd be able to get it done faster, but I have school so I can't spend that much time on it every day."

Vegeta grumbled a little but couldn't argue with her. He knew she was going to be able to do what he himself could not, so he would just have to be patient. He pushed his stool back from the table and slid off. If they weren't going to work on his scouter, then he was going to go find something else productive to do. Training sounded good. He could do that for the remaining time he had left before dinner would be ready.

For once Bulma hardly noticed Vegeta leaving. She was far too absorbed in what she was doing, completely fascinated by the strange device he brought to her. She may have been a technological genius, but her mind was blown by the technology set before her. 'I wonder who gave this to him?' She shrugged. There was no way to know, and he'd never tell.

Vegeta ran to the indoor garden where he had taken to training every morning before the others woke up. He was more careful so as not to blow another hole in the wall. The one he created was patched up in less than a day, so he supposed it really wasn't a big deal if it happened again if it was so easy to fix, but he still didn't think the Briefs would appreciate him blowing their home up even if they could afford constant remodeling.

After checking to make sure no one else was in the garden, Vegeta crouched down in his trademark fighting stance and began another round of his kata. He refused to let his techniques get rusty while he resided on the peaceful planet. He couldn't tell if he was getting any stronger since he had no one to test his strength against, but he was sure he wasn't getting weaker. With the amount of food he was eating, he was sure his body was probably benefiting since he hardly ever got sufficient nourishment while working under the lizard. The tyrant made sure he was always unsatisfied so he would work harder to earn more food as a bonus. Besides, he was easier to keep in check when he was weakened by malnutrition.

'Damn him,' Vegeta growled to himself, 'I _will_ kill him someday. I will continue fighting and growing stronger and one day he will pay for what he has done to me.' He kicked and punched the air furiously, imagining his fists and feet mercilessly beating his master. The one responsible for his life of misery. The one who took all meaning and honor from his life. The one he lived to kill.

"I will not rest until I have your blood on my hands, Frieza!"

Mrs. Brief, who had been on her way to water her plants in the garden, stopped when she heard her young houseguest inside. She cocked her head to the side and nearly dropped her watering can as her hand shot to cover her heart. "Oh my," she said sadly, "Was that Vegeta? I've never heard someone sound so angry."

Vegeta immediately dropped to the ground and stared at the intruder when he heard the doors to the garden opening. He never seemed to be able to get any peace around the compound. Someone was always prowling around wherever he went. He relaxed when he saw that it was the blonde woman. She was highly irritating but mostly harmless aside from her bloodcurdling voice. It never failed to set his teeth on edge.

"Vegeta, honey?" she asked when she saw him standing in the garden looking in her direction.

"What is it?" he asked in response.

She took a few steps into the garden and set her watering can on the ground. "Is something bothering you?"

He turned his head away and shook his head. "No. Nothing."

Her normally cheerful smile turned down into a frown. She didn't believe his answer one bit. She walked over to him and gently took his chin in her hand and turned his head so she could look into his blazing obsidian eyes. "Don't tell me nothing, sweetie. Who is Frieza?"

His eyes widened momentarily before he forced himself to return to his stoic façade. He didn't want anyone to tell how he was feeling through his facial expression. How was he supposed to answer the idiot woman? She could never understand even if he was willing to tell her who his tormentor was. How could he tell her that he was actually an alien from another planet, that his trade was purging planets, that he was the slave and play-toy of a sadistic monster whose favorite game was seeing how far he could push him toward death without letting it happen? How could he tell her that he feared this monster, that he loathed him, and that he was afraid he was becoming just like him? Rage boiled through his veins as he pulled away from the silly woman. He couldn't answer even if he wanted to.

He shook his head and raked his fingers through his hair. "No one. It doesn't matter."

Before she could protest he ran out of the garden and went upstairs to his room. There had to be somewhere he could go where he wouldn't be bothered for a little while. He locked the door for good measure and sat down on the floor with his back leaning against the bed. He didn't want to think about the lizard. He wanted to forget his past, forget the shackles that bound him to his service against his will. He'd rather die than be his slave, but he couldn't die without avenging his people first. He _had_ to live to kill Frieza.

Mrs. Brief watched the boy leave and clutched her apron in her hands. She was terribly upset by his strange behavior. A boy so young shouldn't carry such rage and hatred. He hadn't said a word about this Frieza fellow, but she could see all she needed to know in his eyes. They spoke volumes when he chose to remain silent. She could see so much hurt and hatred in them. Feelings no boy should ever have to live with. Feelings even no adult could hold onto without going mad.

But the question remained: Who is Frieza?

_A/N: Seems Vegeta took it surprisingly well when he found out Bulma was the genius he was looking for all along... Another chapter written! I'm totally excited about it, too. I think it's one of the most emotionally-packed chapters I've ever written. Just wait 'til you get to read it..._


	7. Frieza

Frieza

"Lord Frieza requests an audience with you at once, monkeys," Zarbon sneered.

Nappa and Raditz exchanged a quick glance before standing from their seats at the mess hall. No doubt they weren't going to be praised for their quick work on planet 1084XR; rather, Frieza was going to demand an explanation of why their third member was missing.

As they were walking through the long corridor, Nappa opened his metal link with Raditz and told him, _'He's going to want to know about the prince, so keep your mouth shut and let me do the talking.'_

Raditz groaned. He knew Nappa meant well most of the time, but he wasn't very gifted with words and more often than not what he said came out wrong and got them all into trouble. He was a much better speaker, but held a much lower rank, so his words were counted as nothing. And anyway, he was a third-class warrior and Nappa was a member of the elite guard, which meant he was automatically in charge when the prince was absent.

They reached the metal doors flanked by guards that led to the throne room. There was no point in hesitating when the doors opened for them. With heads held high they marched in and kneeled while they waited to be addressed. Slowly, the hovering throne turned and faced the bowed soldiers.

"Ah, so it's true that my favorite little monkey is missing."

A shiver ran down the spines of all those who heard the sickeningly sweet tone the ugly, scratchy voice used. It was so discordant it disgusted everyone, even Zarbon, Frieza's right-hand man.

"Yes, Lord Frieza," Nappa ground out.

Frieza chuckled and moved his throne closer to them. "And where has he gone?" he asked curiously.

Nappa swallowed hard before answering. "He had a malfunction with his pod and crash-landed on a planet on the way to our last mission."

"Oh, really?" Frieza asked with feigned astonishment. "And how do you know he wasn't trying to run away?"

The bald man looked up angrily at the grinning tyrant. He hated how he always berated his prince. He could stand the insults hurled at himself and Raditz, but it was too much when Vegeta was attacked.

"He is not a coward! He would never run away!"

Frieza scoffed. "You saiyans are just a bunch of overgrown monkeys. So rude. I have a small squadron sent to retrieve your precious prince, but I am holding you two responsible for his disappearance."

"But Lord Frieza!"

"Silence!" Faster than the eye could see Frieza whipped Nappa across the face with his tail. "You will be held responsible and as such shall be punished until his return."

The tyrant stood from his throne and paced around the saiyans. They already knew what was coming and he relished their apprehension. "Once _Prince_ Vegeta is back, I will punish him personally for trying to escape his duties."

By then both saiyans were trembling with fear and rage. They were humiliated to be so helpless against a tiny little slime ball like Frieza, but they were powerless to rectify their situation. Nappa in particular was furious about Frieza's promise to 'punish' Vegeta. He was officially the young prince's bodyguard, but he was too weak to stop the sadistic lizard from harming him. All he could do was stand by and watch and carry him to the medical bay when it was all over.

He sighed in defeat as Raditz went crashing into the wall across the room. He watched with detached disinterest as his comrade was mercilessly beaten. He heard the cracking sounds as bones broke, smelled the running blood, and felt the heat of the ki blasts aimed at the other warrior. He winced in humiliation each time the weakling allowed a cry of pain to slip out. Not that he could blame him. Vegeta was the only warrior in all of Frieza's army who could ever endure an entire beating without crying out.

Soon Raditz was dragged out of the throne room and it was Nappa's turn. He raised his chin defiantly even as blood trickled down his cheek from when he was hit a few minutes earlier. He may not be able to keep from voicing his agony, but he wouldn't look away. At least in some small way he could honor his race.

'Someday,' he thought, 'someday Prince Vegeta will kill you, you sick bastard. And when that day comes, you'll be sorry.' With one final kick to the back of his neck he was rendered unconscious.

Like Raditz, Nappa was unceremoniously dragged out of Frieza's throne room to the medical bay where he was put into a rejuvenation chamber and left to heal. Both saiyans spent nearly two full days in the chambers before they were declared well enough to be sent on another purge mission.

They were putting on their new armor before departure when Raditz couldn't hold it in any longer. Years of pent-up frustration overwhelmed his reasoning as he lunged at the older saiyan who was caught completely off guard.

"Why do we have to live like this?" he screamed in Saiya-go as he drove his fist into his superior's nose. "Why couldn't we have died with the rest of our race?"

Nappa threw the long-haired saiyan off and growled. "We live like this for the sake of our prince. We have to protect him until he's strong enough to avenge our people."

Raditz clenched his hands into fists and scowled at Nappa. "Really? We're supposed to protect him? You and I both know he's the strongest of us and he's still not strong enough! He may never be!"

Nappa backhanded Raditz and kicked him in the solar plexus. "Don't say that! He _will_ ascend and he _will_ kill Frieza."

"That's what you always say," Raditz spat. "I want it to be true as much as you, but how long will it take? We'll be killed before it happens!"

"No, we won't be killed," Nappa snarled. "That's what Frieza wants you to believe. He wants you to give up on Vegeta. We can't let him get to us."

There was no argument to that. Frieza loved breaking the saiyans down both physically and mentally. And he was good at it. If not for their pride, they would have broken long ago. It was their pride that made him hate them so much. Their pride was the saiyans' downfall, the reason they were exterminated. Thanks to Frieza, Raditz, Nappa, and Vegeta were the only survivors of the genocide. They could never forgive him for destroying their planet. Their lives lost all purpose aside from killing the lizard. He was why they lived and it was the hope in his death that they stuck behind their child prince and endured beatings on his behalf.

Frieza must die.

_A/N: I'm hoping to round out the characters of Nappa and Raditz in this fic. Tell me how I'm doing!_


	8. Conflict

Conflict

"You know, you're really getting this stuff fast."

"Hn."

"What does that even mean?"

"Roughly translated: Yes, no, I don't know, I don't care, or shut up."

Bulma glowered at her sarcastic student. "Well, gee, that sure narrows it down."

Vegeta smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. Of course an ambiguous answer would get under her skin. Besides, he was tired of listening to her praise. It felt like empty compliments to him.

"Your grammatical rules are some of the easiest I've learned."

"Oh, really? And exactly how many languages do you know well enough to compare them to?"

His smirk broadened. "Do you want me to include dead languages or not?"

She stared at him blankly. "With?"

"Fifty-seven, not including English."

Her jaw dropped. "Fifty…seven? No way! There's no way you could learn that many and be fluent in them all!"

"Fine, only forty-two if you leave out the ones where I'm not completely fluent. But I can hold adequate conversations in them."

Bulma shook her head and turned her attention back to the notebook on her desk. So he thought he understood her grammar so well, did he? She'd have to prove him wrong. She knew just how to do it, too.

"Ok, so you think you know English pretty well, huh? I bet you couldn't last one week in school without falling behind because you can't understand enough."

Vegeta snorted when she issued her challenge. He knew exactly what she was trying to do and he wasn't going to fall for it. She'd spent over a month teaching him English and giving him warnings that he'd have to go to school soon since he was learning it so fast. There was a reason he continued leading her to believe he wasn't picking up on reading and writing.

"Don't be absurd. I can speak it well enough, but you know I can't understand written language very well," he reminded her.

"You're doing well enough. You could get by with what you know in seventh grade. Remember you're learning from a genius, so naturally you're getting the best lessons possible. _I'm_ still way ahead of you, but I'm at, like, the doctoral level." She smiled smugly, as if daring him to contradict her.

"Absolutely not."

"Huh?"

"You're not tricking me into going to that place."

Mentally she cursed his ability to see through her plot. Why couldn't he ever fall for anything? She sighed and closed her notebook. "Fine. Maybe I can't make you go, but my parents can."

He glared daggers at her as he stood up. "And what makes you think they'll think I'm ready for it?"

"They'll believe me when I tell them."

"I'll deny it."

"They'll believe me over you."

"What makes you so sure?"

"They know you're not stupid."

He snarled and turned away from her. He refused to go to 'school.' She giggled when she saw his tail flicking with his irritation. Now that she was used to the idea of him having it, it was a new source of interest for her. More than anything she wanted to touch it, but he always kept it wrapped around his waist and vehemently discouraged her from trying to feel it.

"I don't have time to waste on school," he groused.

Bulma rolled her eyes at his complaint. She didn't know what he could possibly be so busy with every day. He never told her what he did when she was away at school. All she knew was that he was often gone from the compound when she returned home and that he had a habit of pestering her father about mechanics. In her opinion if what he was doing wasn't important enough to ever talk about, it wasn't important enough to keep him from going to school with her. Misery loved company, and she was ready to have a friend – or at least acquaintance – there with her.

"Whatever. I'll talk to my parents tonight."

Vegeta ground his teeth and had to make a conscious effort to not wrap his hands around her frail little neck and squeeze… He shook his head. He had to avoid such thoughts if he wanted her to be able – and willing – to finish his scouter.

"Pretentious little brat!" he growled, using his native tongue.

Bulma wagged her finger at him. "You know if you're insulting me you should do it in a language I can understand."

"I hate you."

"The feeling is mutual."

"Shut up."

Bulma pretended to zip her lips and dismissed him with a wave. If he wanted to be done with his grammar lesson then she was going to get her homework finished. She didn't hear him as he silently stalked out of her room, so she jumped in surprise when her bedroom door suddenly slammed closed.

'Insolent girl! She wouldn't dare con me into this school thing. I don't need some pitiful earthling education! What I _need_ is to get off this planet.' Vegeta went downstairs to the indoor garden to train before dinner. He was feeling the need to vent some aggression.

Vegeta showed up to dinner a few minutes late covered in sweat and minor burns. He sat down at the table and started serving himself despite the concerned exclamations about his physical state. He didn't want them fawning over him so he brushed off their questions and doting and ate his meal quickly without a word.

"So, I think Vegeta's ready to go to school," Bulma said casually once they determined the boy wasn't going to respond to their concern.

"Oh?" Dr. Brief turned his eyes from Vegeta to his daughter. He didn't doubt he could get by, but he also didn't think that Vegeta agreed with her about his readiness, judging by the cold glare he was giving her.

She nodded, oblivious to the death glare. "He's got a good handle on English and I bet he knows math and stuff enough to start middle school."

Dr. Brief turned again to his young houseguest. He didn't look happy about the proposition. He took another bite of sushi and slowly chewed it while he mulled the idea over in his head. Vegeta could be quite successful in school but did he need to go, at least so soon? Call him selfish, but he liked having the boy around.

Mrs. Brief was having similar thoughts. She enjoyed seeing Vegeta around the compound, especially at lunch. It gave her great pleasure seeing him eating so much of her cooking. He was surly, but she was absolutely convinced he just needed love. Like an abused and neglected animal she wanted to teach him to trust again and not be scared all the time. She wanted him to feel comfortable opening up to them. Would he learn to trust if he went to school? She knew children could be horribly cruel to one another. Sending him to a jungle like that might do the boy more harm than good.

Bulma could see her parents' thoughts plainly written across their faces. No doubt Vegeta was aware of the same thing and was mentally gloating his victory. She glanced his way and frowned when she saw him smugly grinning at her. He knew he won. Well – maybe not.

"I don't see why I should have to go to school if he doesn't," Bulma grumbled. "It's not like I learn anything."

Dr. Brief sighed and continued eating. He'd heard her singing the same tune for years. It lost its effectiveness long ago. He strongly held onto the belief that as the future president of Capsule Corporation she needed a formal education that he didn't have the time to give her at home. And anyway, he and his wife both hoped that by sending Bulma to school she would make some friends closer to her age and possibly feel like a kid despite her genius. They were afraid her intelligence made her feel like she was skipping the best time of her life.

Vegeta's only response was a condescending scoff. He was glad she left the compound for the better part of the day five days a week. It kept her out of his hair and her questions about his daily activity to a minimum. Then again, if she weren't at the prison for human children, she could devote more time to fixing his scouter and then he could get his space pod fixed and he could be on his way. But was it worth having her around more? He shook his head to get his thoughts back on track. He should focus on not going to school, not advocating for her to be allowed to stay home.

"You know why you have to go to school, dear," Dr. Brief said to his daughter.

She pouted. "It's not fair! I know I have to go, so why doesn't he have to, too?" she asked, pointing at Vegeta.

"Do you want to go to school?" Dr. Brief asked him.

"No."

"Well, that settles it. I don't see why I should send you."

"But Dad! I don't _want_ to go either!" Bulma protested.

"Bulma," he said sternly, "We've been over this. There is going to be no more discussion on the issue."

Bulma could feel tears forming in her eyes. Her parents clearly favored Vegeta over her. He was given the choice to go to school or not while she was forced to go kicking and screaming. Sometimes literally. And really she just wanted Vegeta to go so she would have a friend at school with her. But she didn't want to admit that out loud. No doubt Vegeta would use that as ammunition against her in their next verbal feud. She didn't want to give him any more firepower than he already had when she had virtually nothing on him.

"I can't believe this," she growled. She slammed her hands against the table as she stood up then ran out of the kitchen. She felt positively furious with both her parents and Vegeta.

Vegeta watched her retreat with mild amusement before turning his attention back to his meal. He anticipated no more interruptions now that she was gone. He missed the exchanged glance between the elder Briefs and calmly finished eating. When he was done he left the kitchen to go find the sulking girl and demand she spend the rest of the evening working on his scouter.

He found her in her bedroom and was surprised to see that she was not only still upset, but she was crying and appeared quite dejected. He shifted his weight between his feet uncomfortably as he debated whether or not to bother her. Rather than being concerned about her feelings, he didn't know how to interact with her when she was being so irrational.

'Ridiculous girl, why does she care about this so much?' He scowled and turned on his heel to take his leave before she noticed him standing in her doorway.

He quietly padded to his own room and sat down at the desk with his scouter laid out on it. Through the process of repairs it looked worse than ever. Bulma claimed gutting it would speed up the process, which made him nervous because he didn't entirely trust her to be able to put it back together again. There were tiny pieces covering the surface of his desk and he was afraid a careless exhalation of air could upset them and he'd never figure out where they were supposed to go. The whole idea of fixing by tearing apart was nerve wracking for him. She was so casual about it, but she didn't realize the importance of getting his scouter working correctly as soon as possible. And it wasn't as if he could tell her.

He raked his fingers through his hair and slumped back in his chair. She taught him the function of all the pieces and now they were to the next step of diagnosing if they had problems and what those problems were if they did. Already she had determined she would have to rebuild some of it. He was afraid to ask how long that would take.

'Might as well get something done.' Vegeta picked up a miniscule screwdriver and started reinstalling the intact microprocessor. Going from memory alone he had it back in place a few minutes later.

"Is there anything you don't learn fast?"

Vegeta flinched when the unexpected question broke his concentration. He turned and saw the girl standing behind him watching what he was doing over his shoulder. She was frowning, which certainly didn't add much to her distraught appearance with puffy red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. His lip raised in a snarl.

"Hn."

"Jerk. You're almost as smart as me but you don't have to…" she trailed off after seeing the warning look he gave her. "Whatever. I see you've started without me. You sure you need my help?"

He was vaguely taken aback by the bitterness lacing her words. But he brushed that aside and nodded. "I can put it together, but you haven't showed me how to make new parts where needed."

Somewhat appeased, Bulma pulled another chair up to the desk and separated the functional parts from the ruined ones. "I don't have time to start that tonight, but we can get the materials we'll need. Dad probably has everything in his lab."

"Fine. I can put the rest of this together later."

"Don't you ever sleep?"

"Not much."

"But you never even look tired."

"I'm not."

"But you just said you don't sleep much."

"I don't need to."

There wasn't much she could say to that. She knew some people naturally required less sleep than normal. Often she wished she was one of them, but she wasn't. Now she learned that he was. She bit her lip to keep herself from confessing her growing jealousy of her houseguest. She was beginning to think he was better than her in every way. Well, almost. At least she didn't have crazy, untamable hair.

"I really can't stand you," she told him.

"Likewise."

"Jerk."

"Brat."

Bulma huffed haughtily and pushed all the undamaged pieces into a plastic bag. Vegeta nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw her so carelessly jumble them all together.

"What are you doing?" he yelled.

She rolled her eyes. "Relax. I know what everything does. I'm not going to get them confused."

"You'd better hope for your sake that you don't," he hissed.

Bulma felt a shiver of fear running down her spine. He had threatened her before, but he never sounded so serious about it. The scariest part was she had no idea what exactly he could or would do to her if provoked enough. He was unpredictable and she knew very little about him, but she could sense some underlying sinister nature when he let it show.

"Seriously," she said, trying to cover her nervousness, "I got this. Come on, let's go get the stuff we'll need."

Vegeta got up and followed her downstairs to the laboratory. The large room was becoming fairly familiar since he spent so much time there, so he knew exactly where to go to find scrap pieces of electronics. He rifled through them along with Bulma even though he had no idea what to look for. Despite being clueless about the utility of the various things, he figured it would be advantageous to know what was available for when he got to fixing his space pod.

"I think that's everything," Bulma said as she shoved the new parts into another plastic bag.

"Hn."

"Eloquently put," she quipped.

Vegeta snorted. He still didn't see the point in responding with a long, drawn-out speech when a simple grunt of acknowledgement would suffice. Just because she was a loudmouth who could babble about nothing for hours on end didn't mean he was equally willing to waste his breath.

"So this will probably take a while to figure out, so you're going to have to wait to start this. Hopefully this weekend we can get going on it," Bulma said as she locked the lab door.

She knew he wasn't happy to hear that when she saw the tip of his tail flicking even though he didn't give a verbal response. It wasn't as if she was purposely taking her time, so she didn't think he had any right to be irritated with her. No doubt she was working faster than anyone else could, so he should consider himself lucky to have her help. She smiled as she boosted her own confidence and walked away from the lab with a new spring in her step. Which reminded her, she needed to test her latest invention…

Vegeta wasn't grateful, though. All he could think about was his need to get back to the tyrant's ship as soon as possible. He knew what to expect upon his return and the consequences would surely be intensified with each day of his absence.

'Maybe I should kill myself and save Frieza the trouble,' he thought. 'At least I could make it quick and relatively painless.' He sighed and shook his head. 'No, I can't die yet. I've got to live long enough to ascend.'

A familiar feeling of hopelessness gnawed at his resolve. This wasn't the first time he'd considered suicide to save himself from his life of slavery. As usual, he was reminded of his duty as the prince of his dead race to exact revenge from the lizard. But he couldn't help but think he would never be strong enough to do so. At his age he was already much stronger than any other saiyans had been for generations, but it still wasn't enough. It would never be enough. He knew Nappa and Raditz were counting on him to do the impossible and it shamed him to even think of letting them down by acting on cowardice and taking his own miserable life. He owed them, the last of his proud race, the hope that Frieza would die at his hands. Even if it was an unrealistic fantasy based on a legend.

"Vegeta? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he answered automatically.

Bulma's brows furrowed as she decided whether or not to pursue whatever made Vegeta betray a rare expression of consternation. But as soon as she asked what was wrong he returned to stoicism. Something was obviously weighing heavily on him, but unsurprisingly he was unwilling to talk about it. No, he wanted to keep everything bottled up inside. She didn't think that could be healthy, but there was no changing it. He was reserved and always would be.

'Well, if something's bothering him, maybe I should help him take his mind off it.' That was when she realized that despite having him live with her for a whole month, she still didn't even know what kinds of things he liked doing.

"What do people do for fun where you're from?" she asked.

The answer "kill weaklings" was the first thing that sprang to mind when she asked. He bit his tongue to keep from blurting it out and shrugged instead. Knowing her, she wouldn't approve of that particular form of entertainment.

"I still have almost an hour before I have to go to bed, so we could do something fun! Hey, I know!" Bulma exclaimed. She grabbed Vegeta's hand and nearly jerked him off his feet as she took off running. "It's still really warm out so we can go swimming!"

Vegeta dug his heels into the carpet and this time Bulma was the one who was nearly jerked off her feet. "Swimming?" he asked, glaring at her suspiciously.

"It's when you get in the water and…" She didn't know how to explain the act of swimming with words, so instead she made swimming motions with her arms.

He raised his eyebrow at her strange display.

"You do know how to swim, don't you?" she asked when he failed to show any understanding.

He scoffed. "If I understand correctly by what you mean by 'swimming,' then yes, but I would hardly call _that_ swimming."

"I'll have you know I'm a very good swimmer," she spat with a dramatic wave of her arms.

"Hn."

"I choose to interpret that as a yes."

"Hn."

She sighed in exasperation. He was trying to get under her skin and she refused to allow him to succeed. "Whatever, let's go! I bet I could swim laps around you."

"Right."

"Come with me and I'll prove it!"

He was torn between indulging her so he could make fun of her and returning to his room to continue piecing together his scouter. Neither sounded good to him at the moment, but he didn't honestly know what else to do. It was only an hour wasted if he went with her… an hour that could be spent better. Another hour he would pay for later when he got back to Frieza with more of his own blood spilled on the ground.

"Stupid girl, I have better things to do."

Bulma put her hands on her hips and quirked an eyebrow. "Why are you always so serious? Don't you ever like to have fun?"

Vegeta pinched the bridge of his nose. There was no use trying to explain himself to her. "I don't have time for 'fun.'"

"Yeah, because you have _so_ much to do. Hello, you don't go to school, you don't have a job! What is there for you to do that's so important you can't take _one_ hour off?"

"You wouldn't understand if I told you, brat!" he roared, now thoroughly enraged with her childish attitude. "You don't know a damn thing about me so stop trying to act as though you do!"

Bulma shrank back from him after his angry outburst. He could smell her fear and felt satisfaction that he was finally able to put her in her place.

"Maybe if you'd tell me something about yourself I'd know," she snapped back defensively.

His lip raised in a snarl, revealing a surprisingly long canine. He looked feral. Suddenly she thought it may have been a bad idea to push him so hard. Trying to pry into his life was apparently unwise. She gulped.

He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her so close their noses were almost touching. She could practically see the fury burning like fire in his obsidian orbs. "Listen, girl. I will tell you nothing. I don't plan on staying here for long so you might as well give up these foolish attempts to make me your 'friend.' Stop being a nosey little brat and leave. Me. Alone." He roughly pushed her away and stalked down the hall without her contemptible company.

Bulma rubbed her eyes to stop the tears from coming, but it was no use. Her shoulders hurt pretty bad, but her heart hurt worse. She'd tried to be friendly to him for weeks and he still hated her for some reason. She didn't realize how much she was hoping he would be her friend until he rejected her and threw all her efforts back in her face. She wanted to be mad at him for it, but all she could feel was embarrassment for her naïve stupidity. The whole time she'd known him he stayed distant and never showed any interest in getting to know her. But she thought they would be close friends because they were close in age and they lived in the same home. But none of that mattered. The fact was, he _really_ didn't like her.

'I could play the same game. I could refuse to build his…thing.' She sniffled and furiously wiped the tears from her cheeks. 'And what did he mean he doesn't plan to stay? Where else does he have to go?'

When Vegeta sat down to resume work on his scouter, he found that his mind was too clouded with emotions to be able to remember how to do it. He growled in frustration and ground his teeth. He needed to calm down if he hoped to get anything done. He took a deep breath and released it slowly, forcing his rage and despair out along with the air. After a few minutes he had himself under control. When he was numb, he could forget how much he hated the life from which he could not escape. Being detached was the only way to retain his sanity, ironically.

'That infernal girl is going to make me lose my mind,' he thought as he examined the tiny microphone before putting it in place.

Vegeta worked long into the night before he couldn't stop yawning and his eyes refused to stay open. He was afraid he was going soft. Before, he'd been able to stay awake for days on end. Now it seemed he needed almost as much sleep as the pathetic humans. He got up from his seat, stripped down to his boxers, and crawled into bed.

'I've got to get out of here soon. If I don't I'll never survive. I have to live! My people's honor depends on me. I cannot get weak. I cannot die.'

Bulma had a hard time sleeping that night. She woke up periodically and at three in the morning she woke again and couldn't get back to sleep. After tossing and turning for twenty minutes she got up to get a glass of milk in the hopes that it would help her sleep.

She was walking past Vegeta's guestroom when she heard him crying out. Curiosity struck her again as she tiptoed over to his door and pressed her ear against it. She was startled when he roared in pain. She threw the door open and ran to the side of his bed where all five on his limbs were failing erratically, the covers kicked off the bed. In the dim light streaming in through his balcony doors she could see a layer of sweat glistening on his body.

"Vegeta? Are you alright?"

His only response was another cry of agony as he curled into a tight ball of trembling muscle. He started muttering something in a language she hadn't heard him use much before. It sounded more like hissing than speech, but it was indeed a language of some sort. There wasn't much intonation, but if she had to guess what he was feeling, it was intense fear.

Sympathy tugged at her heart. This didn't look like any normal nightmare a kid might have. This was him reliving a vivid, terrible memory in his mind. Realization struck her in her tired state. 'He's right, I really don't know anything about him.' She tried to reach out to him, but as soon as her hand touched him his arm batted her away so hard she heard a sharp snap and a stab of pain exploded through her arm. She howled in pain and collapsed on the floor, her broken arm clutched to her chest.

Vegeta sprang out of bed when he heard the intruder. Immediately fully awake, he landed in a defensive crouch while his eyes shifted quickly over his surroundings. His eyebrows rose in astonishment when he caught sight of the blue-haired girl then lowered as he glared at her.

"What are you doing in here?" he demanded.

She looked up at him and choked back a sob. She had never felt such pain before in her life, and it was only made worse by his callous question. Couldn't he see she needed help? "You broke my arm, you idiot!"

He growled. He wasn't sorry for doing that even if it was true. If she trespassed on his territory he had every right to attack her. Still, she was in his domain now and he wanted her out. It didn't look like she was planning on leaving though. He cautiously stepped closer to her as if expecting her to lunge at him in retaliation.

"Oh Kami, Vegeta, this hurts!" she bawled when he kneeled down in front of her.

"Shut up, girl," he purred. He knew better than to upset her worse, so he was trying to calm her down instead. "Let me see your arm."

Bulma sniffled and winced when he gently took her arm and held it out so he could examine it. He prodded it in a few places until she screamed in pain. He frowned and allowed her to pull her arm back and hold it against her chest. He knew which bone was broken but he didn't know the English word for it so he couldn't tell her.

"Where can you get medical attention?" he asked, standing up.

"Get my parents. They'll take me to the hospital."

Vegeta grabbed one of the sheets from the floor and ripped off a strip of it. He ignored Bulma's questioning look and made it into a makeshift sling for her arm. It wasn't great but it was good enough to handle the job temporarily.

"Come on," he grumbled, pulling her to her feet.

He walked with her to her parents' room and banged on the door before inviting himself in. He wanted them to hurry and take the whimpering girl off his hands so he could return to bed.

"Wake up!" he barked when neither of them roused from their slumber.

"Hm? What is it?" Dr. Brief mumbled into his pillow.

Bulma saw Vegeta's impatience and decided to speak up. "Dad, my arm's broken. I need to go to the hospital."

Dr. Brief shot up in bed. "You're hurt?" He got out of bed and ran to his daughter. "What happened?"

"I, uh…" She glanced at Vegeta and then lowered her head. "I was going downstairs and I fell. I guess I woke Vegeta up and he helped me."

Dr. Brief wasn't entirely convinced, but he shrugged and decided to accept her explanation for now. At the moment what mattered was getting her to the emergency room. He could ask questions later.

By then Mrs. Brief was awake as well. When she learned what was going on she nearly broke out in tears. If there was one thing she couldn't stand it was her baby being in pain. She was so upset her husband had to usher her out of the bedroom, giving her the task of getting the car ready.

He came back in and ordered Vegeta to help Bulma to the car while he got dressed. Vegeta did as he was told, though he didn't understand what all the fuss was about. She had a broken bone, she wasn't having a baby. Humans got worked up over the silliest things.

A few minutes later all four of them were on the way to the West City General Hospital, much to Vegeta's chagrin. He didn't want to accompany his host family on the trip, but Mrs. Brief insisted he come along to reassure him that Bulma would be ok. As if he didn't already know that. He sprawled out in the backseat with his feet on Bulma's lap despite her protests and slept through the short drive to the hospital.

When they got to the hospital Vegeta was dragged along with them to the emergency room. He grumbled the whole way and went straight for the chairs in the waiting room to continue sleeping. He was joined a bit later by the others after they signed in. It was only a minute before Bulma was taken into the ER. Dr. Brief went along with her but Mrs. Brief stayed behind so as not to get in the way.

She saw that Vegeta was sound asleep so she refrained from disturbing him. She thought all the excitement must have worn him out. It was so nice to see he cared about Bulma. He acted mean to her but deep down he liked her. Mrs. Brief smiled at that thought and started reading one of the magazines from the waiting room table.

_A/N: Oh, Mrs. Brief, how wrong you are... _

_Review!_


	9. Secrets

Secrets

Bulma was allowed to stay home from school the next day, so she took her opportunity to sleep in late. Even if she wanted to get up she wouldn't have been able to stay awake for all the painkillers in her bloodstream. It was almost noon when she finally got up.

She took a bath, being careful to avoid getting her hot pink cast wet, then got dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top. If she wasn't in school she didn't have to follow any ridiculous dress code. She frowned at her reflection in the mirror. She looked as bad as she felt. Terrible.

"Whatever. No one's going to see me today anyway."

She went downstairs and immediately headed for the kitchen when she smelled grilled cheese. That was one of her favorite meals. She burst into the kitchen and greeted her mother before sitting at the table and digging in to the stack of warm sandwiches.

"I'm glad to see you're up, honey," Mrs. Brief chirped as she brought another plate piled high with grilled cheese sandwiches to the table.

Bulma's eyes widened when she saw the staggering amount of food. "Are you cooking for the whole city?"

"No, silly. Just you and Vegeta. He should be here soon."

"I know he eats a lot, Mom," Bulma said around a bite of food, "but that's too much, even for him."

"Oh no, dear. He always eats this much at lunch. He's a growing boy, you know."

Bulma shrugged and finished eating. If Vegeta could eat that much she wasn't going to argue. "Is Dad eating in his lab?"

"Yes, dear. He said he'll be there until dinner."

"Ok." Bulma wanted to go see what he was doing, but he was probably testing a new product and wouldn't want her interrupting for safety reasons. She sighed and took her plate to the sink. She would have to find something else to do.

As she was leaving the kitchen, Vegeta came in. He gave her arm a once-over before pushing past her to go sit at the table. He was still irritated with her for coming into his room while he was sleeping. Now she was hurt and probably wouldn't want to help him anymore. He could apologize or try to explain why he hit her, but his pride wouldn't allow that.

Bulma glanced at him once over her shoulder before going to find something to do. She wasn't upset with him for hurting her. She knew he was asleep when he did it, so it wasn't like he did it on purpose. She was surprised that he was strong enough to break her arm though. He was stronger than he looked, and he looked strong for his age.

Vegeta went back to his room after eating lunch and found Bulma sitting at his desk tinkering around with his scouter. His first reaction was to throw her out, but he held himself in check and went over to see what she was doing. If she was still willing to help him then he wasn't going to discourage her. He sat down in the chair next to her and watched as she took the speaker apart.

She grunted a greeting without taking her eyes off the task at hand. She needed to know exactly how the speaker was designed so she could perfectly mimic it with the new materials she took from her father's lab. It was going to be difficult, considering she didn't have the exact same things, but she might be able to salvage some parts of the original and incorporate them into the new. She hoped she could, that is.

Bulma wrote some notes down on a pad of paper and drew diagrams of the speaker as she carefully dismembered it. It wasn't quite like any speaker she'd ever seen before – it was much smaller for one thing – so she wanted to have a detailed plan of how to recreate it. Having pictures would also help her when she explained what she was doing so Vegeta could easily follow along. They were still having language problems when she got into technical things and it was frustrating for both of them.

"What were you doing in my room?" he asked when she sat back and rubbed her tired eyes.

Bulma could feel herself blushing a little. "I, uh… You woke me up, so I came to see what was wrong."

"Liar."

She sighed. "Ok, so I was already awake. But I heard you and I wanted to make sure you were alright."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Why would you have thought I wasn't alright?"

"You were… well… screaming."

His eye twitched but he didn't say anything. There wasn't much _to_ say. So she caught him in one of his weakest moments. When he was asleep he was unable to defend himself from his memories. He already knew that sometimes his nightmares got out of control. Nappa and Raditz had both awoken him at different times because he was crying out in his sleep. It was shameful for anyone to see him so weak, so pathetic. His hands balled into fists.

"You shouldn't have come in here."

"Yeah, well, I think I learned that the hard way," she said, pointing to her cast. She gave him a lopsided smile and shrugged. "I guess it must have been pretty awful."

"What?"

"Your dream."

He snorted. Talk about an understatement. He didn't dream so much as replay memories in his mind when he slept. There were no distortions as in the dreams of some other species. Saiyan dreams were perfect recollections of past events. His recollections were particularly vivid. For some reason his memories had a clarity that others' lacked. He never forgot _anything_, and that was not a blessing to him. He wanted more than anything to be able to forget. At least then he would be able to get a decent night's sleep once in a while. His nightmares were part of the reason he resented having to sleep so often.

"What was it?"

The tip of his tail started flicking with his agitation. Not only did the girl try prying into his life by asking what he liked doing, but now she was trying to pry into the deepest workings of his mind as well? Into his past? He never told anyone anything! Not even Nappa or Raditz, his two closest comrades. The only other saiyans left… What was he dreaming about, anyway? The dreams started blurring together after a while. Each night he relived a different event, none pleasant. What difference did it make if it was a beating when he was five or nine? A beating was a beating. He came out of it with broken bones, severe blood loss, and battered pride.

He closed his eyes and focused on _not_ thinking about his past. He wouldn't allow her to bring it to the forefront of his consciousness. "Do not ask such foolish questions, girl."

"Were you… you know, abused? Wherever you used to live?"

She was startled by his bark of bitter laughter. There was no trace of humor in it at all. She frowned as she wondered what could have happened to him that would possibly warrant such a strange, incongruent response. "Vegeta?"

"Stupid girl. Abused? It ceases to be abuse when it's done with _good intentions_, doesn't it?" He laughed again. "Who cares anyway?"

"I care."

"You're a foolish child. You nor anyone else can help me so don't concern yourself with me. Fate has chosen me to be the laughingstock of the universe." He brought his fist down on the desk, cracking its surface. He bared his teeth and growled. Here he was, letting her fog up his rationality with emotions again. Before he knew what was happening he felt hot tears streaming down his face.

"It's ok, Vegeta. No one's going to hurt you anymore," Bulma said as she drew him into an embrace. "You're safe here."

He shook his head and pulled away from her. "I'm not safe anywhere. Besides, I have to return. If I don't…"

She waited for him to finish, but after a minute it was obvious that he was closing himself off again. Already he'd said much more than he meant to and she knew things about him that he didn't want anyone to know. He cursed her for making him so weak, for making him give in to his foolish emotions. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and got up from his seat. He had to go somewhere else for a while. His mind was in chaos, but if he could meditate then he would be able to get himself back under control.

"Wait, don't go," she called after him when he made a hasty retreat.

He paused and stood still while he waited for her to say her piece. He heard her sigh and then the chair slid across the carpet as she stood up. Even though he heard her softly padding across the room to him he still flinched when she touched his shoulder.

"You don't have to leave here."

Vegeta brushed her hand off and sneered. "You know nothing of what I have to do."

He strode out of the room, leaving Bulma behind feeling confused about what he might mean. She didn't understand why he would have to go back to wherever he came from if he didn't want to. She and her family would never make him leave. They would never send him somewhere where he would be hurt.

'Vegeta, why would you leave us? Why would you choose to go somewhere where you'll be abused?' Bulma's brows furrowed as she turned and went back to the desk to continue her work. She would talk to him later, try to help him understand that he didn't have to go anywhere, no matter what he thought.

Vegeta ran downstairs to the indoor garden as fast as he could. His mind was filled with tumultuous emotions that he was eager to rid himself of. In the garden he sprang into the trees and found a large branch he could sit on while he meditated. He had a difficult time clearing his mind as thoughts raged through his head. 'What has that foolish girl done to me?' he thought furiously. He hated her for making him think of terrible things, for reminding him of the life he had to return to. He hated her for trying to give comfort she had no right to give. For trying to make him believe he didn't have to go back without facing dire consequences. Even if there weren't already soldiers coming to get him, the lizard would hunt him down until he found him and then kill him in the slowest, most painful way imaginable.

He swallowed back a lump in his throat and glared at his hands as they clenched and unclenched in his lap. He felt like his emotions were warring for dominance in his head while he fought to contain them all, bottle them up and bury them deep inside. More tears stung his eyes as his hands flew to his temples and started yanking his hair and clawing at his scalp. He was torn apart inside. Trapped, he was trapped in his rotten life with no way out. He was a slave, he was a prisoner in his own body. If only his mind, his very being could be freed from his physical constraints. He had to get out but he couldn't.

His muscles trembled as uncontrollable rage coursed through his veins. Rage mixed with despair as he screamed and beat his fists against his legs. He leaned back against the trunk of the tree and banged his head against it a few times, hard enough to daze himself. He shook his head to clear it and groaned when he returned to his senses. Here he was, beating himself up again. What did he need the lizard for when he was more than able to do it himself?

Vegeta laughed bitterly and rubbed his eyes. He was falling apart mentally and didn't know how to save himself from the dark abyss of madness. He'd fallen into it before and barely managed to climb out. This wouldn't be the first time he'd slipped in again, though. No, for the past three years of his life he'd become well acquainted with insanity. He lived as much in flashbacks as he did reality. He lost all grip on his reasoning and felt pain that wasn't real and saw and heard things that weren't there. Now here he was, crumbling into a soft weakling who couldn't stand to face his own fate. He was plagued with hatred for his lot in life. He was torn from his place as crown prince of Vegeta-sei and thrown into the life of a lowly soldier. Just a child and already he'd seen more horrors than men three times his age could bear. He screamed again when everything faded to black.

_Vegeta blinked and rubbed his eyes, trying to get the dust out of them. That last explosion was big enough to split the ground. Buildings crumbled down around him and the small squadron he was with. He coughed a few times and peered through the dust and smoke billowing in the wind. All around them he could see hundreds of dead, maimed bodies lying on the ground. The stench of fear, blood, and death was thick in the air. He nearly gagged._

_ This wasn't the first purge he had ever been on. Far from it. But he had never been on a mission with this particular squadron. They were ruthless. They killed for pleasure as much as duty. They delighted in tearing their victims apart – literally. No adult male was left in one piece _before_ they were killed. Women were all raped before they were likewise torn limb from limb. And children… Vegeta gagged again._

_ Children no older than himself he saw being shredded with the claws of the squadron's captain. He saw the terror and pain in their eyes and heard their shrieks of agony as they were disemboweled. Most of them mercifully lost consciousness before they were blasted into oblivion. Vegeta found himself working harder and faster than he ever had before to reach as many civilians as he could to kill them quickly. And cleanly. He was revolted by the methods used by the others. Saiyans were not known for their mercy, but they weren't complete monsters. Not when they were killing someone defenseless; there was no honor in making their deaths particularly miserable._

_ "Here, monkey, you hungry?" one of the purple-skinned reptilian aliens asked as he shoved a dismembered baby's body into his hands._

_ Vegeta looked at the mangled body and felt bile rising in his throat. He normally wasn't above eating his victims if he was hungry enough, but for some reason the thought of eating that infant repulsed him. He swallowed the rising bile back and dropped the bloody body on the ground, ignoring the taunting laughter of the six members of the squadron. He didn't know why he'd been sent on a mission with them. Normally he was accompanied only by Nappa and Raditz. They were their own elite squadron. Being stuck with such morons was degrading._

_ "Clean up this mess," he spat. "Frieza will be angry if he can't sell the planet because there's too much gore smeared across its surface."_

_ The other aliens grumbled as they went to work blasting each body. He was only eight years old, but he was undoubtedly many times stronger than each of them. Even if they were to gang up on him, they would still be outmatched. They knew they had to listen to his command._

Vegeta opened his eyes and stared up into the concerned blue eyes of Mrs. Brief. She was kneeling at his side and gently shaking his shoulders to wake him up. He pushed her away, somewhat gently, and rolled over before emptying his stomach of all its contents. When he was done retching he sat back on his knees and tried to control his trembling body. He was exhausted. That memory was one of the more disgusting ones that periodically haunted him. He later figured that was probably why Frieza made him go with those soldiers. To scar his mind with such a hideous sight forever.

"Oh, Vegeta honey, are you alright?" Mrs. Brief asked, rubbing his back soothingly.

He nodded weakly and spat into the grass to get rid of the bitter taste lingering in his mouth. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and fell over onto his back. His head was spinning and he could hardly see straight. All he knew was that his stomach hurt, he was tired, his mouth tasted terrible, and Mrs. Brief was there with him. For some reason, that last part comforted him, knowing she was there and wouldn't take advantage of his weak state. The next thing he knew she was gathering him up in her arms and she was carrying him out of the garden. His eyes drifted closed as exhaustion overtook him.

Vegeta woke up a while later in his own room. He stared up at the ceiling as he gathered his bearings before turning his head to the side when he heard a noise. His eyes widened a little when he saw the blue-haired girl looking back at him with a small frown. He groaned and closed his eyes again, then felt a cold, wet cloth on his forehead. It felt good.

"Hey there," Bulma whispered as she patted his forehead and cheeks with the cool cloth, wiping away the beads of sweat.

"What happened?"

"Mom found you in the garden. She said you were screaming and then you got sick, so she brought you up here to rest. She's downstairs making you some soup." Bulma continued patting his face with the cloth, glad to see him relaxing with the pleasant sensation.

"I don't get sick," he rasped.

"That's not what I heard," she teased. She bit her lip when she saw him scowl. Maybe now wasn't the time to poke fun at him. He was probably feeling miserable enough without it. She rested the cloth on his forehead and sat back in the chair she had pulled up to the side of his bed. "Is there anything I can get you?"

He cracked his eyes open and looked at the girl before swallowing. His throat was dry and scratchy. "Water."

She nodded and left his room to go fetch him a glass of water. He watched her go before turning onto his side and closing his eyes again. The flashback he had was running through his mind again and he felt a familiar wave of nausea overcome him. He shot out of bed and practically flew to his bathroom where he dry heaved into the toilet. His stomach hurt even worse since it had nothing to force out. He groaned and sat down in front of the toilet, wrapping his arms around the cold porcelain bowl.

His tail stretched out behind him and twitched from side to side as he panted to regain his breath. His body shook with the tension in his muscles and he swallowed repeatedly to keep from drooling as he continued salivating heavily. He didn't have anything left in his stomach to throw up, but his body was still preparing for the next onslaught of retching.

"Vegeta? You in here?"

He sighed and grunted to let the girl know where he was. She came in holding a glass of water and nearly dropped it when she saw him pathetically clinging to the toilet. He was pale and sweaty and looked absolutely awful. She kneeled down next to him and handed him the glass of water.

He accepted the water and stared at it for a while before shrugging and gulping it down. The cool liquid soothed his burning throat as it went down and he could practically feel his body temperature leveling out with it. Why he was burning up so bad he didn't know. Normally, his memories didn't have such a strong effect on him unless he was sleeping when they happened.

"Feel better?" she asked when he set the glass down on the floor between them.

"Hn." He leaned back on his arms and took a deep breath.

Bulma gave him a lopsided smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I know you said you don't get sick, but maybe you should see a doctor?"

Vegeta shook his head. "I'm not sick. I just…remembered…" he shook his head again as he trailed off, not wanting to finish that sentence. There was no reason to tell her what he was thinking that made him regurgitate his lunch.

She shrugged, stood up, and held out her hand to help him up. He glanced at her hand and rolled his eyes. He could get up on his own without her pitiful help. Just to prove it, he batted her hand away and rose to his feet. He brushed his shorts off with his hands and walked back into his room and collapsed on the bed. While he wasn't sick, he was still very tired. The upheaval of so much food was hard on his body.

Bulma followed him and sat on the edge of his bed to watch over him. When her mother left him to go make soup she was given the duty of playing nurse until she returned to take care of him. Not that Bulma really minded. She still liked spending time with Vegeta even if he was a mean little cuss and didn't take kindly to having her around.

"Why are you still here?"

She chuckled a little and ran her hand through his feathery mane of hair. "You can call me Nurse Bulma. I'm here to take care of you until my mom comes back."

Vegeta snorted and stretched his arms over his head as he yawned. Bulma was surprised and how long his canines were. He looked like an animal. A shudder ran through her body. He pulled his shirt off and tossed it across the room where it landed in his dirty laundry hamper. It was soaked with sweat. He laid back on the bed with his arms crossed under his head.

Bulma's eyebrow quirked when she saw his bare chest. Again she was stunned by his well-defined muscles. He was surely too young to look so…ripped. But, more fascinating still, was the myriad scars marring his otherwise smooth skin. She reached out to trace one, but one of his hands was gripping her wrist and holding it away from his body before she knew what was happening.

"Vegeta?" she squeaked.

"Do not touch me."

She yanked her arm free and scowled at him. "Fine. But at least tell me how you got all those scars."

"No."

"Please?"

He sighed heavily and pulled a sheet up over himself. If he blocked her view of his body, maybe her curiosity would fade. Unfortunately, her curiosity could rival his own and would not be dampened so easily. She crossed her arms and waited for him to answer her question.

"Come on, just tell me."

He growled low in his throat and turned on his side facing away from her. "Many of them are from fights."

"And the rest?"

"Beatings."

Bulma was dumbstruck. She had gathered earlier that he was abused wherever he was from, but she had no idea that it was bad enough to leave so many scars all over his body. Some of them looked like they were from pretty nasty injuries, too. And what scars weren't from being beaten were from fighting. Fighting with who, or what? An angry rhinoceros? Or a pack of vicious porcupines? She had no idea how someone so young could have gotten into fights violent enough to scar his body so badly.

"You know, whoever did this to you could go to prison for abusing you."

Vegeta scoffed and curled into the fetal position. "Don't be foolish. He's never going to prison. It doesn't matter. Someday he'll pay for what he's done to me. When I'm strong enough, I will repay him in kind. And then I'll do what he never had the balls to do to me. I'm going to kill him."

"You shouldn't joke about that."

"Who's joking? I meant every word I said."

Bulma frowned and shook her head. He was all talk. No eleven year-old boy would really be planning on murdering someone, even if that person did beat him when he was younger. She refused to believe he would really follow through on his threats if he were able to.

"Now leave. I want to sleep."

Bulma shrugged and stood up, still looking at the lump under the covers. She wanted to talk to him more, but if he was as sick as he looked then he needed his rest. "I'll tell mom not to disturb you. You can let us know when you're ready to eat." She turned and left his room.

Vegeta released a breath he didn't know he had been holding when he heard the door click shut. He was expecting her to put up more of a fight when he told her to get out. Usually she had something to say about him demanding she get away from him. He was grateful that for once in her life she decided to listen to him and go without any arguments. A few minutes later he fell asleep.

Bulma came back into his room about an hour later to check up on him. He was still curled up in bed, and from what she could tell he was sleeping soundly. At least he wasn't having another nightmare. She sat down in the chair next to his bed and propped her feet up on it. After waiting a few minutes for him to wake up, she started rocking the chair back on the back two legs as she thought about what to do next with his scouter.

He rolled over suddenly, scaring her enough to make her jump back and lose balance. She fell backward in the chair and grunted as she hit the floor. She rubbed the back of her head and got back up to her feet and set the chair upright. When she sat back down in it she saw Vegeta's piercing black eyes glaring at her.

"Oh, hey," she said, laughing nervously, "Didn't mean to wake up you. Sorry 'bout that."

He rolled his eyes and sat up. "Whatever."

Bulma coughed. "Well, anyway, are you hungry yet?"

"Hn."

"Alright then," she said, standing up again, "I'll go get some soup for you. Be right back."

Vegeta kicked the covers off and got out of bed. He went to the bathroom to relieve himself, but stepped on the glass that was still on the floor. He winced in pain when a large shard of glass pierced his foot. Immediately blood spurted out of the wound.

"Just great," he muttered. With a shrug, he did what he went into the bathroom to do, then put his foot on the counter next to the sink. Carefully, he pulled the piece of glass out of his foot and threw it in the trash. That done, he hopped onto the counter and sat with his foot in the sink and washed his foot until it was satisfactorily clean. It continued bleeding, but he wasn't all that concerned about it. He'd suffered worse than that.

Bulma came back into his room with a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup only to find that he wasn't in bed anymore. "Vegeta?"

She set the soup on the table next to his bed and looked around the room. She saw that the bathroom door was ajar and went over to it. She peeked in and saw Vegeta on the floor in front of the sink digging through the cupboard underneath.

"Vegeta?"

"Girl, where is the damn first aid kit?"

She blinked a few times. First aid kit? Why would he need that? She opened the door wider and gasped when she saw blood all over the floor and counter. "Oh my Kami, what did you do to yourself?"

He cringed as her voice raised an octave. "Nothing much. I just need some damn bandages."

The top half of his body disappeared in the cupboard as he crawled in to reach the first aid kit he saw at the very back. He pulled it out and sat on the floor with his back leaning against the cupboard. He opened the kit and pulled out a roll of gauze bandages and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide.

He opened the bottle of hydrogen peroxide and poured it over the hole in his foot. Bulma tried to snatch it out of his hand when she saw what he was doing. "Vegeta! Don't do that! You're only supposed to use that on superficial wounds!"

"Shut up. It won't hurt me." He upended the bottle over his foot and only winced a little as it stung his open wound. When he was satisfied that his foot was thoroughly disinfected he wrapped the bandage around his foot a few times and secured it in place so it was applying a good amount of pressure to stop the bleeding.

"You should really go to the hospital for that."

"It'll heal fine on its own." Vegeta stood up and tentatively put his weight on his foot. There was some discomfort, but nothing unbearable. He walked back into his room and sat on the edge of his bed. He grabbed the bowl of soup from the nightstand and, ignoring the spoon, drank the soup out of the bowl.

"Your manners are terrible." Bulma sat down in the chair by his bed and watched him quickly ingest the soup.

He swallowed the last of the soup and set the bowl back down on the table. "I need more."

"How can you eat so much all the time anyway? It's inhuman!"

He smirked and flicked his tongue over his long canine. "I'll take that as a compliment. Now go get me more food, _nurse_."

Grumbling, Bulma went downstairs to get another bowl of soup for her houseguest. He was making himself a pain on purpose, she was sure of it. When she returned to his room he was sitting in bed with his injured foot propped up on a pillow and he was studying the diagrams she drew while taking apart his scouter.

He took the soup from her and drank it as he had done before. He was still hungry but he didn't feel like waiting for her to get him more, so he didn't say anything. Anyway, dinner would be ready soon enough and then he could eat his fill.

"What're you looking at?" Bulma asked as she sat on the bed next to him.

"Diagrams."

She looked at the pictures she'd drawn and wondered if he was really understanding what he was looking at. So far she hadn't explained these new ones to him and she had notes written in English using words she hadn't taught him yet. She looked at him, but his eyes were roving over the picture and he had a crease of concentration between his brows. She knew better than to interrupt his thoughts, so she waited for him to start asking questions.

Finally, he set the notebook aside and asked, "How long will it take to make all these parts?"

"Probably a few weeks if I work on it a little every day."

He frowned. "That's too long."

"What? Are we on some sort of time limit?" she asked.

"Of sorts. I need this done as soon as possible."

"Why?"

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I need this to work so I can get back…home… as soon as possible. The longer I'm gone the worse it is for me."

"But you don't have to go back! Vegeta, you're welcome to stay here as long as you want."

He shook his head. "No, I can't stay here! Brat, you don't understand. I _have_ to go back. They're going to hunt me down anyway, I have no choice but to return. And the sooner I get back, the less I'll be punished for my absence."

"If this thing helps you go back, then I'm not going to fix it. I won't let you go back there if they're going to hurt you!" Bulma jumped off the bed and grabbed the notebook. She wasn't going to let him see it and try to figure it out if she could help it.

"Stupid girl. I can fix it myself then."

She frowned at him. "Not without my help."

Vegeta glared at her. "Your assistance is no longer required. I know the diagrams and I can use them to fix this myself. It might take a little longer, but at least it'll get done."

"You won't remember them."

Vegeta tapped his finger against his temple and smirked. "It's all locked away right here. I never forget _anything_."

"You have photographic memory?"

He looked at her blankly.

"I mean, you can remember things exactly as they were?"

"Hn."

"I can't believe this. What can't you do?"

"I've never been very talented at singing."

"I'm serious!"

"So am I."

Bulma scowled at Vegeta and tucked the notebook under her arm as she grabbed his soup bowl off the nightstand. "Whatever. Don't forget to clean up the bathroom. There's blood and glass all over in there."

He scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Tell your crazy mother to take care of it."

"She's not your maid!"

"She always takes care of the cleaning."

Bulma huffed and turned on her heel to leave his room. "Fine, but she'll probably make you go to the doctor when she sees how much blood you lost."

His eyes widened a little. "Alright! I'll do it." He was still grumbling when she shut the door behind her with a triumphant smirk.

_A/N: I know there hasn't been a lot of "action" in this story, but it'll come, eventually. Be patient with me! I also hope I can update faster in a few days. I have three days of classes left before I'm officially done with college, and then I should have _more_ than enough time to write. :)_

_dbzluver9000: There will probably be some romance between them eventually, but not for a long, long time. They're just kids!_


	10. Common Ground

Common Ground

It was finally here. The day Bulma Brief had been looking forward to for weeks and months. The day she would be given freedom for three whole months. The end of May had finally come and it was the last day of school. The last day she would ever be a seventh grader. She sang and danced through the halls of the compound as she got ready for school that morning, not caring what tailed boy might be prowling around ready to laugh at the spectacle she was making of herself. She was much too happy to care about any insults thrown her way.

Vegeta's attention was caught when he saw a hot pink arm swinging through the air mere inches from his face as he exited his room to head downstairs for breakfast. He growled at the offending appendage and had to resist the urge to rip it from its owner's socket.

"Oh, sorry Vegeta!" Bulma sang as she danced and twirled down the hall to the stairs.

He quirked an eyebrow. 'What's gotten into her? She's usually a zombie this time of day.' He shrugged and followed her downstairs to the kitchen where an enormous helping of steaming blueberry pancakes was waiting on the table for him.

Mrs. Brief giggled when she saw her daughter's good mood as she plopped down in her chair at the table. Her smile was enough to brighten the whole room. "Good morning, Bulma. My, you look happy."

"I am, Mom! This is my last day of seventh grade! Then summer break!" Bulma cheered.

"Oh, that's right, dear. I almost forgot. Oh! We'll have to go on a shopping spree tomorrow and get you all ready for summer!" Mrs. Brief clapped her hands together and sat at the table next to her husband who was reading his morning newspaper.

"Really? Can we?" Bulma squealed with delight and jumped out of her chair to hug her mother. "You're the best, Mom!"

Vegeta winced as his ears were assaulted with the high-pitched screeching of the two females. He didn't know what they were getting so excited about, but he knew he wanted no part in it if they were going to make his ears bleed over it. He sneered at their display and turned back to eating the mountain of pancakes on his plate.

"We can take Vegeta, too," Mrs. Brief said, "He'll need some new clothes. He's growing so fast."

The young saiyan's eyes shot up to the crazy blonde woman. He had decided less than a minute ago that he _wasn't_ going to partake in whatever the females were planning. "I don't want to go," he said after swallowing a mouthful of bacon.

"Now don't be silly," Mrs. Brief said, waving her hand in dismissal, "You're coming with us and we're going to have lots of fun! You've never been shopping with the Briefs before." She winked at him and served him more scrambled eggs.

Dr. Brief turned the page of his newspaper and silently chuckled at the boy's misfortune. There was a reason he always managed to find something urgent that needed to be taken care of the day his wife planned a big shopping trip. Vegeta caught his sentiments and shook his head furiously. "No, I'd rather not go."

"Come on, Vegeta!" Bulma exclaimed, "It's going to be tons of fun. You'll love it, I promise!"

That promise made him even less convinced than he had been before. He shook his head again, ready to continue protesting. "Vegeta, dear, you really do need new clothes. Your pants are getting too short and your shirts aren't fitting right anymore either. Remember you're a growing boy," Mrs. Brief said.

Vegeta looked down at himself and grumbled. It was true. He had noticed when he wore shirts with sleeves they were beginning to restrict his movements when he trained. And his pants were above his ankles. He looked like a peasant. He sighed and gave in to her arguments. He would go with them to get new clothes, even though he was really quite content to just wear his battle uniform every day. Mrs. Brief wouldn't allow that, though, because she insisted he wear clean clothes every day. Eventually he'd given up on trying to keep his uniform out of the dirty laundry after wearing it once.

Seeing his defeated look, Bulma knew she and her mother had won. Her grin broadened as she thrust her fist into the air. "Yes! Thanks, Vegeta. This is going to be awesome."

He glared at her for a moment before finishing his breakfast. He really had no idea what to expect from this… shopping trip. It didn't sound particularly pleasant, but if he would get new clothes out of the deal, maybe it would be worth the hassle. He didn't notice Dr. Brief sadly shaking his head as he considered the poor boy's fate.

Bulma ran to school shortly after breakfast, leaving Vegeta alone with her parents. It was a typical start to the day, but from what he gathered from the conversation at breakfast, it was the last day such a routine was going to take place for quite some time. From what he understood, the girl was going to be staying home every day for quite a while. While he didn't welcome having her around to bother him more often, he was looking forward to finishing the repairs on his scouter sooner than anticipated. It had been three weeks since he started putting it together, and meanwhile he and Bulma were rebuilding some of the parts. It took him a few days to convince her to continue helping him fix it after he told her it would help him get 'home' sooner, but eventually she gave in. It wasn't that he necessarily needed her help, but he had to admit progress was made much faster when she was assisting him. Also there were less chances of making mistakes that would ruin the whole thing when she was involved.

Vegeta excused himself from the table and went upstairs to his room to take a bath. He'd spent the morning training and changed his clothes before breakfast, but he was still sweaty. And when he was sweaty, he felt sticky, which was very unpleasant. He went into his bathroom and pulled his clothes off before getting into the bathtub and filling it with the hottest water he could get. He never really took baths before he came to live at Capsule Corporation. At least, not since he was still on his home planet. There were only showers on the lizard's ship, and those were freezing cold and had a time limit of two minutes. But baths, those were nice. He could soak in them for as long as he liked with steaming hot water that soothed his aching muscles and reminded him of home. Home, before he was taken away. Before it was destroyed.

He uncoiled his tail from his waist and allowed it to float to the surface of the water. He sighed in contentment and closed his eyes as the hot water washed away his aches and pains along with the dirt and grime covering his body. His bath was about the only time he had entirely to himself each day. He found that when he was in his bathroom, no one disturbed him. He figured it must be an earthling cultural norm to be given unquestioned privacy when he was in the bathroom. That was a luxury he couldn't complain about.

He took his tail in his hand and gently stroked it until he was sure it was clean. He was always gentle with his tail even though it had long since been desensitized. But his tail meant a lot to him. More than anything else. It was the one thing that differentiated him from every other race in the universe. The one thing that marked him as a saiyan. It was his source of pride, and it gave him the power of his transformation. He'd sooner lose an arm than his tail.

It was nearly an hour later when Vegeta climbed out of his bath. The water was no longer hot and he was tired of wasting time. He shook the excess water out of his flame of hair and whipped his tail once to dry its fur. He grabbed a towel off the rack on the door and finished drying himself off and got dressed. He was wearing the same thing he wore pretty much every day: a pair of shorts and a sleeveless shirt.

'I can't become accustomed to these comforts,' he reminded himself for what must have been the millionth time as he walked out of the bathroom. He could not let himself grow weak.

Vegeta walked out onto his balcony and looked down at the yard below. There were no humans meandering about, so he leaped into the air and flew away from the compound. He had no real destination in mind, but he was tired of being cooped up in the compound and wanted to get away for a while. He figured it might be a good idea to check up on his space pod. It had been over two weeks since the last time he went to see it, just to make sure it was still safe from discovery by humans. Working on it was pointless until he knew more about what he needed to do, so he was biding his time and focusing on getting his scouter working again first.

He dropped down to the ground next to his pod and paced around it, looking it over to make sure it was in the same condition he left it in. He nodded when he saw that it was as good as … it had been. No miraculous improvements were there. Not that he was expecting any, but he wouldn't protest if they came. He opened the hatch and sat down in the seat. He noticed it didn't feel quite the same as before. He was again reminded of the fact that he'd grown since arriving on the mudball.

'That's strange,' he thought. 'I should not have reached my growth spurt yet. Most saiyans start that when they reach thirteen years. I have two more to go before then. Unless my body is making up for lost time. It has been given an environment with sufficient nourishment and no life-threatening beatings. It makes sense that I would grow as much as possible during this time. I should have been this tall already, that is all.'

With a shrug, Vegeta got out of his space pod and sealed the hatch shut. There was no point in wasting more time with it for now, he couldn't do any work on it yet. He was reassured that it had not yet been discovered and so would be safe for another while before he could return to it. He levitated off the ground a few feet and looked around. He wasn't in the mood to go back to the compound, so he could spend some time exploring the planet. As long as he returned on time for lunch. He wouldn't miss lunch if he didn't have to.

He chose a direction at random and flew full speed, kicking up a cloud of dust as he sped over the ground. It was always exhilarating to fly so fast. He rarely had the opportunity because he had to take his time and make sure he wasn't missing a single life form that needed to be exterminated on a purge mission. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of the wind gusting through his hair, whipping over his face, and small pieces of debris stinging as they beat against his skin. He uncurled his tail from his waist and let it fly freely behind him, intensifying the sensation of freedom. Even if it was only an illusion, he would take whatever feelings of freedom he could get.

'Someday,' he mused, 'I will truly be free. I will be the most powerful being in the universe, and no one will ever rule over me again. I will take my place as rightful lord of the universe, and people will be bowing down to _me_. The way it should be.'

He ascended higher into the atmosphere until the air was thin and cold, then dropped straight down. He twisted his body until he was facing the ground with his arms held at his sides, making him more aerodynamic. He loved the feeling of weightlessness as he plummeted to the ground. No ki holding him up, nothing. Just freefalling. He stopped himself when he was inches above the ground and flipped over so he landed on his feet.

'Will I actually miss this mudball when I leave it?" he wondered as he looked around at the vast plain of tall grass he was in. There were no signs of human life for miles. 'No, but I will miss being able to be me. I will miss not being watched every second of my life.'

He frowned and took to the air again. He'd spent enough time away from his work. He didn't have time for sightseeing, he needed to get his pod up and running as soon as possible and stop dreaming about the day he could fly when and where he wanted. It was time to return to reality and remember he had responsibilities. He was no ordinary child. He'd never had a childhood, not really. Even before he was taken as a slave he was being groomed for the throne of an entire race of warriors. That was no easy task. Then, at the age of five, he was stolen away from his kingdom and forced to be a soldier for the creature he hated. It was a life not worth living, but it was the only life he had.

Vegeta returned to the Capsule Corp compound right as lunch was being served. He ate his meal quickly and then went to his guestroom to continue working on his scouter. That was how he spent the rest of his afternoon until Bulma returned from her last day of school, in a mood even brighter than the one she left in. Before, she only had the eager anticipation of finishing her last day of seventh grade, but now it _was _finished and she had three months of no school to look forward to. She was, in a word, ecstatic.

Bulma ran upstairs and barged into Vegeta's room with a grin spreading from ear to ear. "Vegeta! I'm done with school for the summer!"

He whirled around in his chair and glared at her. "Why should I care?"

"Because, silly, that means I can hurry and finish fixing your communicator thing. And we can hang out more!" She broke into a fit of giggles and doubled over in her laughter. "I'm so happy to be done with freaking seventh grade. I hated it!"

'Lucky you, finding escape from the torment you find yourself in,' he thought bitterly.

"So anyway, what're you working on? I want to see what you've done today." Bulma skipped across his room and sat down in the empty chair next to Vegeta.

His eye twitched at her close proximity and chipper attitude, but he gained control of his unease and shoved the scouter over so she could see what he had been working on before she came in. She looked it over and saw that he was in the middle of programming the display to read the language he could read and she couldn't. She had to trust him that it was displaying correctly since she would never know one way or another. "Looks good, I think."

He nodded and pulled the scouter back over so he could finish what he was doing. It wouldn't take much longer, and then they could move on to reconnecting it to the proper radio frequency so Vegeta could finally send and receive messages from the technicians at Frieza's bases. It was the last step before he could finally start repairing his space pod. The whole process hadn't taken nearly as long as Bulma originally predicted because Vegeta was a fast learner and proved himself more than capable of getting lots of work done each day. All Bulma really did was guide him in what to do and correct any mistakes he may have made while she was away at school. She was secretly very much impressed with his ability to pick up on everything so fast. He was so smart she wondered if, maybe, rather than being _almost_ as smart as she was, he was in fact smarter. But that was impossible.

When he was done programming the display, Bulma grabbed his arm and tried to pull him out of his chair, but he resisted. She was never able to make him budge an inch when he didn't allow her to. "Come on, it's time for your English lesson."

Vegeta rolled his eyes and stood up. He didn't really need English lessons anymore, but she insisted there was more for him to learn. If nothing else, he was expanding his vocabulary daily, which made communication much easier. He crossed his arms over his chest and followed her to her room where they sat down at her desk and started his lesson.

"So today I'm going to teach you about adverbial clauses and then more words. What words do you want to know? Maybe emotions? Like angry, sad, or content? I don't think we've gone over many of those yet, except the ones you needed at the time because you were feeling them. Or I've talked about being happy or sad or whatever."

He sighed as she prattled on, not really caring what she chose to 'teach' him for the day. He already knew the words she was rambling on about, but he would allow her to believe she was teaching him something new. At least then he wouldn't have to listen to her whining about how he was no fun to teach because he already knew everything. He'd already endured that particular complaint a few too many times for his liking.

"So I'm curious, Vegeta," Bulma said when they took a break from English. "How much math do you know? Have you learned algebra yet?"

"Algebra?"

"Oh. I guess you probably have a different word for it. It involves equations like this…" she explained as she started writing the quadratic equation out on a piece of paper. "I learned this a long time ago, but most kids learn it in eighth grade I think."

He snorted. "I learned that as soon as I could walk."

"Ok, you know it, that doesn't mean you have to exaggerate," she teased.

He quirked an eyebrow. "I wasn't."

Her smile died. "What do you mean?"

"I mean what I said."

"Liar. No one, and I mean _no one,_ can learn algebra when they're babies!"

Vegeta shrugged and pulled the piece of paper closer and picked up the pencil. "Oh really? If that weren't true, how would I have ever been able to learn math like this?" He started writing out an equation that scrawled all the way across the paper. It took him some time since he had to translate his number system into hers so she could understand, but he left the symbols the same because they were just symbols and it didn't matter what language was used.

Bulma's eyes widened when he set the pencil down and slid the paper back to her. "What the heck is this?"

"It's the formula to determine the trajectory of an object of a given mass traveling beyond the speed of light when it enters a planet's atmosphere." He smirked smugly at her disbelief.

She swallowed and ran her hand through her blue hair. "Why would such a formula exist, even if that's true? Nothing can travel faster than light."

Vegeta nearly smacked himself for his carelessness. She still didn't know what he was and he preferred to keep it that way. Bragging about alien technology capable of doing things the humans had yet to develop was not the best way to conceal his secret. "It's all hypothetical."

"Right."

He took the paper back and wadded it up. "It doesn't matter. Point is, I'm way beyond algebra."

"Alright, I get it." Bulma sighed and leaned her chair onto its two back legs. "So what do you want to do after I teach you some new words?"

He shrugged. She'd gotten into the habit over the past three weeks of always asking that same question despite him never giving any definitive response. Sometimes he obliged her and went along with the activity she suggested, but most of the time he adamantly refused and returned to his room to tinker around with his scouter for the remainder of the night. But now that that was about done, he didn't feel the usual hurry to get it finished. Maybe tonight he would go along with doing something she wanted to do. He usually got a good laugh out of it when she would inevitably make a fool of herself in some way.

"You never suggest anything," she grumbled. "What do you do for fun when I'm gone?"

He raked his fingers through his hair as he thought about that. He didn't really do anything for the sake of pleasure. There was a purpose behind all his activities. But, if he had to choose one thing he enjoyed above the rest…

"Train."

"Train?"

"To fight."

"Oh. So you're pretty serious about fighting, huh? Like martial arts? What kind do you do? Karate? Taekwondo?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "Serious? It's my life. I practice a type of martial arts you wouldn't be familiar with."

"Oh. I suppose I couldn't really do it with you. I don't know the first thing about fighting."

"That's supposed to come as a surprise? You're pathetically weak."

"Hey!" she shouted, "Just because I'm not a muscle-bound thug doesn't mean I'm weak. For my age…"

"You couldn't hurt me if you tried."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Sure. Go ahead and hit me. Right here," he said, pointing to his jaw.

Bulma frowned and balled her hand into a fist. She wasn't sure this was a good idea, even if she couldn't hurt him after all. Was he trying to trick her somehow? "Are you sure you want me to do this?"

He nodded. "But your fist should be like this." He clenched his hand into a fist with his thumb on the outside unlike hers, which was held inside her fingers. "You don't want to break your thumb, idiot."

"Oh." Bulma imitated his fist and drew her arm back to strike him.

Vegeta held his chin up defiantly and smirked when her fist collided with his jaw. He hardly felt a thing, but she pulled her hand back and shook it violently. "Kami, what the heck are you made of?" she whined. "That hurt!"

"Stop your whining, brat," he snapped. "I told you, you couldn't hurt me if you tried."

Bulma pouted and shook her hand again. There were tingling sensations running up and down her fingers. "You could've told me it would feel like I'm hitting a brick wall."

"Would you have believed me?"

"Well, no. Probably not." She scowled at him and crossed her arms over her chest. "Still, you could've tried to convince me."

"Whatever. Obviously fighting isn't your forte." Vegeta stretched his arms over his head and yawned. He jerked back when he felt an elbow between his ribs. "What the hell?"

Bulma smiled smugly at him. "Shows what you know."

"Do not try picking a fight with me, girl. You wouldn't survive," he growled.

"So teach me how to fight."

"No."

"Why not? Scared I'll get better than you?"

"Not likely. I don't want to waste my time on a pathetic little weakling like you."

"I'm not weak!" she argued as she jumped out of her chair and started flexing her muscles. "See, I got lots of muscle."

"For an infant."

"Yeah? Well, let's see what you got."

He sighed and stood up facing her. He flexed his muscles for her to see and rolled his eyes when her jaw dropped. Of course he had lots of muscle. He was a saiyan warrior. Even if he hadn't even reached puberty yet, he was naturally muscular.

"Ok… so you're strong. But you've been fighting a long time, right? So teach me! I bet you're really good at it."

"Flattery will not get you anywhere."

Bulma frowned. He was always so stubborn. "Fine. But can I watch you train?"

"No."

"Why not?" she demanded, her hands automatically gravitating toward her hips.

"You wouldn't be able to see anything."

She scoffed. "As if you could really move that fast –"

"You were saying?"

She spun around on her heel and came face to face with the smirking boy. He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow as he waited for an answer.

"How – how did you do that?" she shouted.

"I train to be able to do that."

Bulma huffed and turned around again. "Well, if you're so good why can't you teach me the basics at least? Wouldn't it be fun for you? You said you like training. Besides, I know you _love_ making fun of me when I mess up, and I'm sure I'd mess up an awful lot."

"That's a given." Vegeta circled around her, looking her body up and down. There wasn't much to her. She was pitifully thin. She didn't appear to have an ounce of muscle on her. No, she certainly wasn't warrior material. She was nothing but a weak little girl.

For reasons she didn't know Bulma felt as though she were prey being stalked by some fearsome predator when he paced around her, scrutinizing her strength or lack thereof. "Well?"

"You wouldn't last one minute under my training," he concluded.

"Try me."

"Very well. Change into more appropriate attire and meet me in the indoor garden. That is where I usually do my morning training. Be ready for a hard workout, girl." Vegeta smirked and turned on his heel to leave her room. If she was so sure she could last, he was going to prove her wrong. She was always so cocky about her own abilities, lacking as they were. It was time he show her she wasn't capable of doing everything she thought she could do. Besides, she was right. He could glean a great deal of amusement out of her failed efforts.

Ten minutes later Bulma walked into the indoor garden and looked around for her new sensei. She honestly had no idea what to expect from him as her trainer. She didn't even have that much interest in fighting, but she was determined to find some common ground between them, and if she couldn't find any the old-fashioned way, she was going to create some. If that meant she had to take up fighting, then so be it. So far she had tried getting Vegeta interested in many different things – from board games to hot rods – but he was unimpressed with all of it. How could he not have any hobbies at all? It just wasn't normal. She knew he was a serious kind of guy, but did that mean he couldn't enjoy _anything_ in life, other than laughing at her?

"Vegeta?" she called, "Are you in here?"

She heard some leaves rustling and then Vegeta dropped out of one of the nearby trees. He looked totally unfazed by the long fall as he straightened his back and walked over to her. She was again assaulted with a strange predatory look in his eyes as he approached her. She shifted her weight nervously from one foot to the other while she waited for him to say something.

"So, you're not a coward," he said. "Too bad for you."

She swallowed hard and nodded. "I'm ready for you to teach me."

He grinned evilly, revealing his long canine. "Brat, you have no idea what you're in for. You'll never be ready."

Bulma took a deep breath and released it slowly. She didn't want to let him get under her skin with mere words before they even started. Judging by how badly her hand hurt after punching him, he could effortlessly take her down in a fight, so she was reluctant to spar with him. She just wanted him to teach her the basic mechanics of fighting and go from there. She had no idea what he had planned though. She had to be ready for anything.

"I could teach you the way I learned," he said nonchalantly as he started circling around her again. "I learned through defending myself from a full-out attack." He drew his fist back and swung it at her face, stopping himself when his hand was an inch from her nose. She flinched and backpedaled away from him as he chuckled humorlessly.

"I – I don't think that method will work. For me," she stuttered.

"You are probably right," he conceded with a shrug. "You were not born with a natural talent for fighting like myself."

"Not really," she squeaked out. She was starting to think this was all a very bad idea.

"Then we will start with the basics of punching. Most fools think a punch is a punch, but there are many different ways to punch, like so." Vegeta clenched his hand into a fist and demonstrated a straight punch, a hook, and an uppercut. "Which punch you use depends on your position in the fight and what part of your opponent's body you are aiming for."

Bulma nodded, showing she was following him so far. It didn't look so hard when he showed her how to do it. She saw how he gave momentum to his punches by turning and twisting his body. If that was all there was to it, she'd have it mastered in no time. She smirked.

"Now try this one," Vegeta said as he showed her an uppercut again. He already explained what a fighter would use this type of punch for, but she hadn't been listening as her thoughts drifted to how she was going to show him up in his own game.

Bulma clenched her hand into a fist and threw her arm forward as she had seen Vegeta do twice now. She was rather pleased with herself until she saw the amusement dancing in her teacher's onyx eyes. He clearly wasn't too impressed with her form.

"Try it again. This time make it more vertical, like this." He showed her again how to properly execute an uppercut.

She did as she was told and after a few more tries had an acceptable uppercut. Vegeta smirked when she grinned with excitement. After doing it once she thought she was already ready to move on to the next lesson. He shook his head at her antics. "That was adequate. Now do it 300 more times with each arm. If you need me I'll be doing my own training on the other side of the garden." Before she could protest he was gone.

Bulma scowled and stamped her foot. This was no fun at all. He'd spent most of the time mocking her feeble attempts to throw a decent punch and now he told her to do it a ridiculous number of times while he went off and did only Kami knows what. She felt rage bubbling through her veins and started practicing her uppercut, imagining each one hitting Vegeta square in the jaw and knocking him off his feet.

It took Bulma nearly two hours to finish practicing her uppercuts. She had to take several breaks at increasing frequency by the end because her arm and shoulder were getting tired and sore. She never would have thought an exercise so simple could ever be so tiring, and she was surprised that it not only made her break a sweat, but she was sweating quite profusely. After the fiftieth punch she wanted to quit, but she knew that quitting would only prove Vegeta right. And so she grit her teeth and forced herself through her given task, trying to repeat the correct form each time.

"Bulma, are you in here, honey? Have you seen Vegeta? Dinner is ready!" Bulma sighed with relief when she heard her mother summoning them to eat. She was rather hungry.

"Coming, Mom!"

Bulma ran to the door and glanced over her shoulder to see if Vegeta was on his way. She didn't see him coming. That was strange. Typically food was the only thing he wouldn't hesitate to run for. She figured he probably didn't hear the dinner announcement, so she started walking to the other side of the garden through the trees to find him and tell him.

"Vegeta?"

She yelped as she fell back to avoid being hit. She was about to start screaming at him to watch what he was doing, but then she noticed what he was doing and fascination replaced her anger. She watched him as he fought an imaginary opponent, leaping through the trees, blocking unseen blows, and retaliating with his own. He never paused for breath as he seemed to turn fighting into an art form the likes of which she had never seen before. Had she not known what he was doing, she might have mistaken his smooth, graceful movements for a dance. Perhaps that was what it was: A vicious dance where the two partners are trying to beat each other up. Bulma's jaw dropped when he phased out of sight and reappeared several yards away in less than a second. But that was surely impossible, wasn't it?

She cleared her throat loudly to try and gain his attention, but he didn't notice her. He just kept fighting furiously, as if his life depended on it. Bulma's stomach growled, reminding her of the reason she sought him out in the first place. She pushed herself up to her feet and patted the dirt off her shorts.

"Vegeta!" she screamed.

He immediately stopped in the middle of a sweep kick and turned to scowl at her. "What could possibly have possessed you to interrupt my training?" he yelled.

Bulma frowned and crossed her arms. "Dinner's ready, you ungrateful jerk!"

Vegeta grumbled as he followed the blue-haired girl out of the garden and through the halls to the kitchen. He resented the disruption in his training, but if there was one thing he would always stop for, it was one of Mrs. Brief's home-cooked meals.

"So," he asked patronizingly once they were seated at the kitchen table, "How did your training go, girl?"

Bulma sneered at him. "I finished."

He snickered and started serving himself. "And you want to continue?"

Bulma hesitated before answering. She didn't want to admit she didn't have a bit of fun. She didn't want him to know she was absolutely miserable the whole time. But she wouldn't give up so easily. As long as he was willing to teach her, she would suck it up and keep going. Who knows? She might even learn to like it. Especially if she could get as good as him someday. In her mind's eye she replayed Vegeta's training and wondered how it was possible to ever get that good and be so fast she couldn't even track his movement. It was mind-boggling.

"Of course I do," she replied. "That was easy."

"What was easy, dear?" Mrs. Brief asked when she sat down at the table with the last dish of food. She was always interested to know what her daughter was up to, especially when it was something to do with their guest. He was such a nice boy, she was glad to see them getting along so well.

"He's teaching me how to fight," Bulma beamed.

"Oh, my," Mrs. Brief said, her hand covering her mouth, "That sounds dangerous. Please be careful, honey."

"It's ok, Mom," Bulma reassured her mother. "It's not like he's going to beat me up."

He smirked. This was going to be fun. If she thought she could handle _his_ training, he was going to show her otherwise. Weak little girl, she had no idea what she was getting herself into.

_A/N: Addressing reviews..._

_Goku will not appear for quite a while, and his first appearance is minimal. Yes, there is action coming up, but you're going to have to wait a few more chapters. I promise it's worth the wait. Thank you for the encouragement and congratulations as I finish my undergraduate classes, and good luck to all of you going through the same thing!_


	11. Shopping

Shopping

Vegeta walked into the kitchen for breakfast after finishing his morning training. He sat at the table and waited for Dr. Brief and Bulma to come in so he could start eating. Mrs. Brief was cheerfully humming to herself as she flipped pancakes on the griddle. Vegeta's mouth started watering as the delicious smells spiced the air.

"Good morning, Vegeta!" Mrs. Brief greeted her young houseguest.

"Hn."

Mrs. Brief was setting a platter full of bacon on the table when Dr. Brief came in reading his morning newspaper. He kissed his wife's cheek and nodded his good morning to Vegeta before sitting down at the table. He turned the page of his paper and continued reading.

A few minutes later all the food was set out on the table, but Bulma hadn't come in yet. Mrs. Brief sat down and started serving her husband and guest. This confused Vegeta because they had never started eating without the girl's presence except the day after he broke her arm. Not that he was complaining. He didn't want to wait any longer. His stomach was growling loudly and he thought he was going to go mad if he didn't get to dig into the food soon.

The elder Briefs and Vegeta were contentedly eating their meal when they heard a small commotion upstairs followed by the hurried footsteps of the absent girl as she descended the stairs. A few seconds later she burst into the kitchen, breathing heavily.

"Mom," she whined, "Why didn't you get me up?"

"Good morning, honey," Mrs. Brief replied. "Come have some breakfast. I didn't expect you to get up so early since you don't have school."

Bulma took her seat at the table and snatched the last two pancakes for herself despite Vegeta's warning growl. She stuck her tongue out at him triumphantly, a gesture he didn't much appreciate. He took the rest of the eggs and bacon before she had a chance to reach for them.

"I know, but you promised we'd go shopping today," Bulma said. "We have to get an early start if we're taking Vegeta too."

Dr. Brief chuckled at his daughter's logic and set his newspaper aside. "Don't you think it's a bit early for shopping, dear?"

"No way! I need new shorts, and shirts, and shoes, and sunglasses. Oh, and some new swimsuits!"

"Is that all?" Dr. Brief mumbled sardonically. He knew his daughter's shopping habits could rival those of his wife. It was a good thing they were obscenely rich or they would be driven to bankruptcy in an hour when those two went to the mall.

Bulma ignored her father's remark and continued, "And Vegeta will need a lot of new clothes too. I just want us to have enough time to get everything we need."

"We'll have plenty of time, Bulma," Mrs. Brief told her. "Now finish your breakfast."

Vegeta was really not liking the idea of going shopping now. He realized the majority of his day was going to be spent following the girl around while she found an endless assortment of garments to purchase. It was going to be boring and annoying and he wanted to get out of it any way he could. Unfortunately, he agreed that he did need new clothes and he didn't trust the airhead blonde woman to get him something decent.

As soon as Bulma was done eating she gathered the dirty dishes off the table and carried them to the sink to wash. While she did the dishes, Mrs. Brief made a lunch for her husband to take with him to his lab and Vegeta went to his room to get ready for his unpleasant excursion. He took a short – but hot – shower and dressed in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Those were about the only things he could wear without looking ridiculous because he was too tall for them.

He was tying his shoes when he heard someone banging on his door. He didn't have to see his visitor to know who it was. "Go away, girl."

"Vegeta, come on! It's time to go!"

He muttered alien curses under his breath as he left his room and followed after the hyperactive blue-haired girl. She led him out the front door of the compound and ran over to the cherry red hovercar where Mrs. Brief was waiting for them. She grinned when she saw her daughter and Vegeta approaching.

"Let's go!" Bulma said as she jumped in the passenger seat.

Vegeta sighed heavily as he got in the backseat. It was time for his torture to begin. They pulled out of the compound driveway and headed for the largest shopping center in the city that had all the best stores. Bulma was bouncing in her seat with excitement and Vegeta was sulking as he watched the city fly by out the window. He wanted to open the door and jump out but figured that would cause unwanted pandemonium. He refrained from escaping and waited with apprehension for them to reach their destination.

He groaned when he saw it. The building was massive. It was surrounded by parking lots that were already filling with cars. So many humans in one place? It was a nightmare come true.

"Here we are!" Mrs. Brief chimed when they pulled up in front of the doors to a large department store. The three got out of the car and Vegeta reeled back in surprise when the blonde woman capsulated it. He'd never been that close to such a large object when it was returned to its capsule.

"Alright!" Bulma cheered. She grabbed Vegeta's hand and dragged him into the store with her mother following close behind.

Vegeta somehow managed to pull his hand free from her death grip without hurting her and crossed his arms over his chest as he walked behind the babbling females. His eyes shifted from side to side as he walked, being sure to take in every detail of his environment. His expression remained stoic but inside he was on edge. There were dozens of humans milling about in the store. Vegeta didn't like crowds. More accurately, he despised them. Bad things could easily happen in crowds. Like ambushes. The tip of his tail twitched with agitation.

'Why did I let them drag me into this?' he wondered.

"Oh my Kami! Mom, look at those cute shorts!" Bulma ran over to a rack filled with very short denim shorts embroidered with floral designs on the back pockets.

Vegeta snorted when he saw what the girl was so excited about. They were nothing terribly impressive. She already owned many pairs of shorts exactly like them, with minor differences in the pockets. But apparently those designs meant the world to her because she insisted on trying on several pairs.

"You go try them on, dear," Mrs. Brief said, "and I'll go look at some shirts for you."

Bulma grabbed as many shorts as she could carry and ran to the nearest fitting room. Before Vegeta knew what was happening, he found himself standing alone in the midst of racks abounding with disgustingly girly garments. He turned in a circle, looking around nervously.

'Oh, great. Now what am I supposed to do?' Vegeta lowered his arms from their crossed position, readying himself for an attack as he crept through the jungle of sequins, glitter, and ribbons.

"Vegeta, look! Aren't these just darling?"

The edgy saiyan leaped back and instinctually formed a ball of ki in his hand and aimed it at his attacker – the crazy blonde woman. He immediately dissipated his ki. She didn't seem to have noticed his strange reaction and the glowing light in the palm of his hand. He turned his attention to the two tank tops she was holding up. One was pink and had the word "PRINCESS" across it in silver sequins and the other was baby blue with a picture of a tiara in gold sequins. His lip curled in contempt as he looked at them.

His breathing slowly returned to normal after his little scare and the crazy woman again disappeared into the abyss of clothes racks. Once his heart stopped hammering in his chest he ventured deeper into his foreboding surroundings. He was mildly irritated with himself for nearly losing control and blasting the woman into the next dimension. He doubted that would go over well with the others. Besides, then who would cook for him?

A twitch started under his left eye when he heard the excited squealing of the brainless woman and the girl. Apparently their opinions converged on the cuteness of some piece of clothing. He rolled his eyes and continued his cautious wandering. Suddenly a small figure appeared in front of him after emerging from under a rack of jeans. Without thinking Vegeta chopped the child's neck and left her unconscious body concealed under the rack from which she came.

'It was a harmless toddler,' he reprimanded himself. 'Calm down. You are the Prince of all Saiyans, not a third-class cub.' He slid his palm down across his face and shook his head. He needed to remember he was on a planet of plebeians, not in enemy territory. He inhaled deeply and slowly released his breath.

"This skirt is adorable!"

Vegeta's head snapped to the side when he heard the blue-haired girl's comment. He walked in the direction her voice came from and nearly got plowed over when she ran to look at more t-shirts. Her arms were filled with shorts, shirts, skirts, and jeans. How she managed to hold onto so much stuff was a mystery to him. He barely dodged her as she darted through the store as if it were her natural habitat. Her mother was doing the exact same, weaving through the racks, picking out clothes without seeming to bother looking at what she was grabbing. They were shopping machines. Vegeta hoped it wouldn't be the same when it was his turn.

Bulma ran into a fitting room again with a heaping armful of clothes. Vegeta saw a chair next to the fitting room entrance and sat down. It might be safer to stay out of the way of the females while they shopped. He tried to calm his mind enough to meditate, but the occasional shrieks of delight and groans of disgust kept breaking his concentration. He opened his eyes with a growl of frustration in time to see Mrs. Brief leaving the fitting rooms with a pile of clothes she hung on a rack near the door. Vegeta figured it was for rejected garments. He couldn't believe how much of what the girl took in was discarded. What a waste of time.

Finally, Bulma came out of the fitting room holding a few pairs of shorts, a couple skirts, and a variety of shirts. "I want these," she told her mother.

Mrs. Brief nodded and took the clothes from Bulma. "Ok, honey. Now let's find some nice things for Vegeta."

"Ok, but can we go to the shoe store after this?"

"Sure, dear."

Vegeta slid off the chair and allowed the mother and daughter to lead the way to the boys' clothes. He sighed when he saw the extensive and unimpressive selection spread out before him. They already spent a solid two hours in the store, and knowing his luck they would be stuck there for two more. Bulma ran ahead of him and started rifling through clothes as if her life depended on it.

"Well, go find what you like, silly," Mrs. Brief said, pushing Vegeta into the fray.

Vegeta took his time looking over and carefully analyzing everything that caught his eye, which wasn't much. There were too many bright colors, stupid graphics, and ridiculous mottos he didn't understand printed on the shirts. He figured they were from some sort of popular cultural fad he wasn't familiar with. He wanted clothes that would give him freedom of movement when he trained, so he gravitated toward the athletic wear. He didn't know where the woman and the girl had disappeared to, but he wasn't concerned about it.

He picked out several identical pairs of black shorts and a few dark t-shirts and sleeveless shirts. Satisfied with his selection, he went to a fitting room and tried them on. He didn't enjoy the thought of wearing things some miserable human whelps already wore, but he knew he needed to make sure the clothes fit and that they would be big enough to grow into so he could avoid another shopping trip for as long as possible.

"Vegeta? Are you in here?" Mrs. Brief asked.

They young saiyan cringed. He was hoping he wouldn't have to go through the same routine as the girl had. He finished pulling a new shirt over his head and opened the door to his fitting room. "What?"

Mrs. Brief's perpetual smile broadened. "There you are! I found some things for you to try." She dumped a load of clothes in his arms. He grimaced when he saw the obnoxious colors. Without a word he returned to the small room and closed the door. He had no intention of putting a single thing she gave him on, but he would humor her by accepting them. Let her believe he tried them before deciding he didn't want them.

'She must be out of her mind if she thinks I would wear this,' he thought as he threw aside a pink button-down shirt that said "BADBOY" on the back. Vegeta finished trying on the clothes he picked out for himself and left the fitting room with the few things he approved of.

"Hey, Vegeta try these," Bulma said as she took the clothes from him in exchange for jeans, polo shirts, and dress shirts. He snarled at her before turning on his heel and marching back into the tiny room. He was beginning to feel claustrophobic in there. He had to admit the girl had better taste than her mother. She chose mostly dark colors and avoided the words and graphics he previously decided he didn't like.

'At least the girl has _some_ sense.' He took his clothes off again and began trying some of the things Bulma gave him. He was surprised to find he actually liked some of the simpler things. He wasn't very taken with the dress shirts, seeing no need for them, but the jeans he liked and some of the polo shirts too. He shrugged and picked out a few of his favorites and left the rest behind as he again exited the fitting room.

"Find anything you like?" Bulma asked when he came out.

Reluctantly, he nodded and let her take the things he'd chosen. Mrs. Brief came over to the kids and took all the clothes from Bulma, adding them to the clothes Bulma picked for herself. "Are you sure that's all you want?" she asked when she saw how much more Bulma had than Vegeta.

"Hn."

"Ok, then, if you're sure." Mrs. Brief carried the myriad items to the nearest checkout station and paid for the clothes while Vegeta and Bulma waited. Mrs. Brief put the bags in a capsule and tucked it in her purse. It was much easier than carrying bulky shopping bags all day. She caught up with her daughter who was eagerly gesturing for her to hurry on to the next store. "Alright, kids, let's go find you some shoes."

'Shoes?' Vegeta looked down at his feet and wiggled his toes. They rubbed irritatingly against the inside of his shoes. He never paid much attention to it before, but now he couldn't ignore it. Yes, new shoes would be favorable. And they couldn't possibly take that long to shop for. Seriously, they were shoes.

Vegeta stopped walking when they reached the entrance to the mall corridor. It was noisy, smelly, and crowded. The others kept walking, but he wasn't willing to dive into that. No way. The mixture of smells was strong enough to make his eyes water. People, food, coffee, perfumes…the combination was almost enough to make him vomit.

He searched for the blonde woman and the girl in the thick crowd, but they were out of sight. Hesitantly, he took a few steps forward, but the noise hit him harder and he clamped his hands over his ears and rushing back into the relatively quiet store. He was stranded, alone in the hellish place.

'I could leave and go back to the compound. Knowing those two, they would overreact to my absence and scream until my ears bleed, though. It might be better to stay here. Maybe they will come back.' Vegeta scowled at the swarm of humans and leaned against the wall, hoping the females would hasten in their return. His patience was running thin.

"Mom, where's Vegeta?" Bulma asked, looking around. The flame-haired boy was nowhere to be found.

Mrs. Brief stopped and looked around too. She didn't see Vegeta anywhere. "Oh, dear. He must have gotten lost!"

Bulma grabbed her mother's hand and started pulling her back the way they came. "We have to go find him!"

"Now, honey, let's not panic," Mrs. Brief said more to herself than her daughter.

The small girl pushed and shoved through the crowd, frantically searching for Vegeta. He couldn't be all that hard to find. For Kami's sake, he had a tail, gravity-defying hair, and the most prominent widow's peak she'd ever seen. He was short, but he stood out in a crowd.

"Was he with us when we left the store?" Bulma wondered aloud.

"I don't know. Oh, dear, I hope he's not scared."

"I wouldn't worry about that. If anything he's probably mad."

They finally reached the store where they spotted Vegeta casually leaning against the wall as if all was well in the world. Mrs. Brief breathed a sigh of relief, but Bulma felt her ire rising. She stomped over to Vegeta and poked him in the chest.

"What the heck is your problem? Why didn't you come with us?" she demanded.

Vegeta swatted her hand away and pushed off from the wall. "You expect me to walk through that stinking, cacophonous hell? Count me out."

Bulma's eyebrow raised. "You mean to tell me you've never been in a mall before?"

"No."

"How could you never? Never mind. It doesn't matter. We have to go through this mess to get to the shoe store, so come on."

"What's the matter?" Mrs. Brief asked finally catching up to her daughter. "Are you ok, Vegeta? Do you feel sick?"

"I am fine." Vegeta glanced out at the corridor. He shuddered. He didn't want sensory overload, which would surely happen if he went out there.

Mrs. Brief smiled brightly and ushered him out of the store. "We can get lunch after we get you some shoes, so let's get going."

"Lunch?" Vegeta's stomach growled. He took a deep breath and went out into the corridor with Mrs. Brief and Bulma. He tried to breathe through his mouth to lessen the overload of smells, but he cringed with the horrible noise of hundreds of people talking, music playing from every store, and shoes pattering against the marble floor. All of that echoed and intensified the noise until he thought his eardrums would burst.

After what seemed like hours of sensory torture they walked into a small store with only a few patrons and light music playing in the background. Some of the tension he felt lifted when he stepped into the quiet place. It was filled with the scent of leather and some kind of polish, but it wasn't too strong. At least it wasn't the stench of too many things blended together in a cesspool of reeking shit. Breathing more freely, he advanced into the store at the insistence of Mrs. Brief, who guided him to the shoes for boys. Aside from the wide range of sizes, they all looked essentially the same. There weren't any boots though.

"I'll let you pick out your shoes," Mrs. Brief said, "and I'll go help Bulma. We'll just be on the other side of the store if you need anything."

Vegeta nodded and she left him to find shoes on his own. He looked down at the shoes he was wearing and back up at the wide selection. He figured what he had were good enough for training in. They were made of some kind of mesh material that kept his feet cool and dry and they were rather comfortable. They weren't the best in terms of protection but then, he wasn't going into any real battles in them.

But the problem was not finding the style he liked. The problem was finding a pair of shoes that fit well. The sizes were arbitrary. Numbers were assigned to different sizes with no relation to actual length, width, or other dimension of the shoe. He picked up a shoebox and opened the lid to see the shoes within. They were obviously too small.

'Blast it, there has to be a more efficient way of finding the right size than looking at every pair of shoes!' He growled and returned the shoebox to the shelf. Not one to waste time, he walked around the store until he found a human man and his whelp to observe. The boy put his foot on some kind of metal plate that looked like some weird sort of torture device. The man knelt down and adjusted something on the simple device and said something to his son, who grinned and went over to pick out a shoebox from the shelf. He seemed confident in his choice of shoes, Vegeta noted. Probably the metal thing determined what size would best fit. That was easy enough, if he could get his hands on one of those measuring devices.

"How do you think Vegeta is doing?" Bulma asked her mother as she put on a new pair of sandals.

Mrs. Brief put a pair of shoes back in its box and put it on top of a tall stack of boxes of unwanted shoes. "I'm sure he's fine, honey."

Vegeta set the foot-measuring device on the floor and put his foot on it. … He moved the sliding piece until it touched his toes. There was a line there that said 8. He figured that must be the size he needed. He went back to the shoes he wanted and picked out a box with the number 8 on it. He opened the box and looked at the shoes. They appeared to be big enough. Still, he needed to be sure so he sat down on the floor and took his shoes off before putting the new ones on. He couldn't feel his toes rubbing against the inside of the shoes, which was certainly an improvement. He stood up and walked around a little. Yes, these shoes were definitely more comfortable than his old ones.

"Oh, wow, these flats will go perfect with my new skirt!" Bulma exclaimed.

Mrs. Brief agreed. Her daughter was a natural at coordinating outfits. It made her proud. She continued browsing the aisles filled with shoes, letting her daughter choose all she wanted. It was always so much fun shopping with her little girl. Their shared love of shopping made for great mother-daughter bonding. She couldn't understand why her husband never wanted to tag along.

"I hope Vegeta is finding some nice things," she said as she picked out another pair of shoes for Bulma.

Vegeta was satisfied with the shoes he found. They were labeled as cross-trainers, so he assumed they would be adequate for his purposes. The soles were somewhat squishy, which was a nice surprise. He'd never had shoes that made him feel as though he was constantly walking on a soft surface before. They were gray with a blue symbol on the side, probably a company logo. He preferred the dark color to the blinding white of so many of the shoes he saw in the store.

'I guess these will do. I should go find the crazy woman so we can get out of here. I need nourishment.' Vegeta's stomach growled its agreement as he walked to the other side of the store that had an awful amount of pink merchandise. He clutched the box of new shoes under his left arm and sniffed the air until he found the blonde woman's unique scent that always had a hint of sugar and spice. It fit her well, considering he respected her for her cooking. He rounded the corner of an aisle and found the two females there. The girl was putting a pair of red flats in a box and set it on a tall pile of boxes at her side. He saw a shorter stack of boxes on her other side and assumed those were the shoes she decided to buy.

"There you are, Vegeta," Mrs. Brief chirped. "Did you find some things you want?"

Vegeta nodded and handed her the box of shoes. He wondered why she looked so confused when he gave it to her.

"Only one pair of shoes? Don't you want more?"

"This is all I need."

"But you'll need some sandals! It's summer, after all!"

Vegeta shook his head. "I just want these."

Mrs. Brief shrugged and added his shoes to the tall stack of boxes. "Ok, if you're sure, honey. We can always get you more later if you decide you want them."

"Hn."

"Hey, Mom," Bulma said as she came over to them with another shoebox, "What do you think of these?" She opened the box and took out one of the shoes, a sandal covered in gold glitter. Vegeta thought it was disgustingly gaudy.

"They're cute," Mrs. Brief said, "but I don't think the gold matches the shirt you wanted them to go with."

Bulma nodded and returned the sandal to its box. "That's what I thought too." She frowned and put the box on the smaller pile. "Well, I guess that's everything I want then."

"Are you sure?"

Bulma nodded again. "Yeah, and anyway I'm hungry. I want to get lunch." She went to the tall stack of boxes and picked a few up off the top. "Hey, Vegeta, could you grab a few of these?"

Vegeta looked at her like she had grown a second head. She was really going to get all those shoes? There were over twenty boxes there, only one of which was his! He grumbled as he picked up most of the boxes and followed Bulma to the checkout with Mrs. Brief bringing up the rear with the last few boxes.

He waited with Bulma by the door while Mrs. Brief paid and put the boxes in another capsule. She tucked the capsule in her purse with the one from the first store and walked to the door. "Alright, kids, let's go get you two fed. I bet you're awful hungry after all that shopping, aren't you?"

"Yeah, let's go!" Bulma said.

This time Mrs. Brief took Vegeta's hand and strode out the door with Bulma leading the way to the food court. He tried to pull his hand free, but she had a surprisingly tight grip and wouldn't release him. Apparently she didn't want a repeat of last time when he got left behind. He cursed her in several languages but his voice was lost in the noise of the mall. It was slightly more bearable this time as he was becoming desensitized to the overload of unpleasant sounds and smells all around him.

When they reached the food court Vegeta was relieved that the scent of food far outweighed that of the humans. He breathed in deeply filling his nostrils with the enticing aromas of all the different fast-food ethnic cuisines. It was hard to determine which scent went with which food type as French fries melded with marinara sauce and gyros. Vegeta sniffed the air and followed the most pleasing smell until he found himself standing in front of the pizza place.

Mrs. Brief came up behind him and looked up at the menu overhead. "Do you know what you want, sweetie?" Without waiting for an answer she put her hands on his shoulders and guided him to the register where there was a teenage girl smacking a wad of gum and rapping her fingers on the counter. Vegeta frowned at her.

"What do you want?" the girl asked impatiently.

Vegeta glanced up at the menu and shrugged. "Two pizzas."

"Ok, two slices of what kind?" she asked. She clearly hated communicating with customers.

Vegeta scowled. "I said two _pizzas_, not two slices. And I want whatever has the most meat on it."

"Kid, we sell by the slice, not whole pizzas."

"Then count how many slices are on one pizza and multiply that by two. You can do that, can you not?"

"Now, Vegeta, be polite," Mrs. Brief chided. She turned to the girl at the register and said, "He'll have sixteen slices of the Most Meaty pizza. And a large drink, right honey?"

The girl at the register rolled her eyes and put the order in. She didn't feel like arguing anymore. "That'll be $38.72.

"Idiot wench," Vegeta muttered. He waited for the blonde woman to pay, then moved down to the opposite end of the counter where the order pick-up was. He was irritated when he found that his order was not already waiting for him. He ended up having to wait a few minutes before he was handed a tray with sixteen slices of pizza stacked up on it. He grabbed it and stalked over to the table where he saw the blue-haired girl sitting down with her own tray of food.

Bulma quirked an eyebrow when Vegeta slammed his tray down on the table. "Got enough food there, Vegeta?"

"Hn." He sat down and started eating. The pizza was hot and delicious – much more than he expected it to be after the terrible service. His already superhuman pace of eating sped up until he was barely swallowing before shoving another slice of pizza in his mouth. The cheesy, greasy goodness was almost all gone by the time Mrs. Brief sat down with a tray with a subway sandwich and a bottle of water balanced on it.

"My, you must have been hungry," she giggled as Vegeta finished his last slice of pizza. "Did you get enough to eat?"

"No."

Bulma looked at her own tray. There was still a lot of food and she was already full. "Do you want my food? I can't eat it."

Vegeta sneered at her. How _dare_ she offer him her food? Did she have any idea what that meant? Probably not. His bristled tail smoothed out as he reminded himself that she did not know his culture and meant no offense. He was immersed in a culture he didn't know well, and, as the visitor, it was his duty not to offend his hosts. He figured if she was casually offering her food, it was not overly significant and was socially acceptable.

She pushed her tray across the table to him when he shrugged. Vegeta picked up a piece of food that looked interesting. It was long and golden brown. It smelled odd, but he bit into it anyway. His eyebrows rose at the unexpectedly amazing taste. 'What is this thing?' he wondered in astonishment as his tongue was assaulted with the perfect combination of pork, cabbage, and spices all wrapped up in a fried piece of heaven.

Bulma laughed when she saw his reaction. "Haven't you ever had an eggroll before?"

He shook his head and shoved the rest of the eggroll in his mouth. It was quite possibly the best thing he had ever tasted in his entire life. He needed more. "Where can I get more of these?" he asked once he swallowed.

"Over there," Bulma said and pointed to the Chinese fast-food place. Vegeta got up, hardly taking the time to grab the money Mrs. Brief handed to him, and ran over to get a tray piled high with eggrolls.

They finished their lunch and were walking through the mall again when they heard a commotion and saw two paramedics running through the corridor pushing a gurney with a small child on it. They were yelling for the way to be cleared for them as they rushed to the ambulance outside. Behind them a hysterical woman, presumably the child's mother, was running after them and wailing about her poor baby. Vegeta's eyebrow quirked as the short parade ran by. He caught a glimpse of the girl. He felt as though he'd seen her before…

"Oh, that's just _awful_," Mrs. Brief said sadly once they had passed.

Vegeta shrugged, now remembering why the girl looked familiar. She was the little cretin who sneaked up on him in the store. He acted on reflex before he could stop himself from hurting her. He wasn't concerned about her. He knew he didn't hit her hard enough to permanently damage her in any way. Again he was amazed at how easily humans got worked up over the smallest things.

"Whatever. Can we get this over with already?"

Mrs. Brief, who was wringing her hands as her heart bled for the small girl, turned to her grumpy houseguest and smiled. "Sure, dear. Eager to get some swimming trunks, huh?"

"Swimming what?" he asked, but the blonde woman and Bulma had already moved on.

The two females dragged him into a small shop hidden between two larger stores. From the outside it didn't have a very impressive appearance, but they insisted it was by far the best store for what they were looking for. Inside the store, he looked around and still didn't find himself to be very impressed. It was small, cramped, and stuffy. There was light rock playing in the background and mannequins all over wearing obscenely little clothing made of brightly colored fabric with gaudy designs.

'Who the hell would wear this?' he wondered as he pulled a tangerine-colored Speedo from the rack. They were shorts. Very short, very tight shorts.

"Look, Vegeta! I think this would fit you," Mrs. Brief sang, holding up an identical tangerine Speedo.

The twitch under his eye came back with a vengeance when he saw the horrid garment she was insisting he try on for size. He didn't mind the tightness of the thing, but it was so…short. And the color was revolting. He shoved it away when she tried to hand it to him, shaking his head in a definite 'no.'

"Over my dead body," he grumbled.

"What's wrong with it?" Mrs. Brief asked.

"The color and the length. Or lack thereof." He pushed past her to look at the selection of swimwear on his own. He didn't know why they were even there. He didn't plan on going swimming, and even if he did, why would he need a specialized piece of clothing for it? He could either swim in his armor bodysuit or nude. It didn't make much difference to him.

His browsing was again interrupted by the blonde woman appearing in front of him holding a black Speedo Jammer. She held it out to him, and this time he didn't reject it quite so fast. It was made of the same stretchy material as the ugly orange thing, but it was longer and a much better color. He took it from her and tested its stretchiness. It wasn't that unlike his bodysuit, actually.

"Do you like this one?" she asked.

He shrugged and gave a noncommittal grunt. It was better than anything else he'd come across so far. He didn't like the loose-fitting shorts that seemed to make up the majority of the selection for males. What was the point of swimming in something that would only work to slow a person down and limit mobility underwater? Liquid was already a hard enough medium to fight in. Having baggy clothes would only make it more difficult to fight. Again, for what must have been the hundredth time that day, he reminded himself he wouldn't be fighting at all on the mudball planet.

Bulma found her mother and Vegeta and ran over to them, holding up a halter tankini with a solid pink top and pink and white striped bottom. "Look what I found. Isn't it the cutest?"

Vegeta glanced at it and rolled his eyes. "Why do you call everything you find cute?"

"Because it is, duh," she replied. "What is it with you and black? Is that your favorite color or something? It's kind of dull."

He looked back down at the Speedo and shrugged. "I prefer blue."

"They have that in blue, Vegeta," Mrs. Brief said happily, "Would you rather try that on?"

He shrugged again and before he knew it the crazy woman was handing him a navy blue Jammer and taking the black one from him to return to its rack. He was flabbergasted by the speeds she could move at when in a clothing store. Anywhere else she was slower than an intergalactic slug when he wanted something, but here she was running laps around him.

They spent almost an hour in that store while Bulma ran around picking out everything she deemed 'cute' and trying it on, only to decide against almost all of them. By the time she was tired of that store, she had six swimsuits picked out, one courtesy of Vegeta who claimed she couldn't swim fast in anything else she chose. Determined to prove she was a good swimmer, she made sure to get a one-piece that would help her speed through the water. She also picked out three pairs of sunglasses and numerous pairs of flip-flops before they reached the cash register. And still, the only thing Vegeta had was his single Speedo Jammer.

"I do not understand how you can buy all this nonsense and not get one practical garment," he groused when they finally walked out of the little shop.

"What do you mean? I'm going to wear everything I got today!"

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "As if you could train in any of that girly garbage."

"Train? What do you mean tra—" Bulma managed to cut herself off when she saw his growing smirk. She nearly forgot about that! He was teaching her how to fight. In that case, what he said was true. She hadn't bought a single thing she could 'train' in. "I guess we'll have to go to another store and get me something then, won't we?" she asked, grinning smugly as his expression darkened. He had hoped their shopping trip was over.

Bulma grabbed her mother's and Vegeta's hands and pulled them into another store that sold sportswear. She didn't take nearly as long there, having little interest in what it had to offer. She did buy several pairs of running shorts, tank tops, and a new pair of cross-trainers though.

"Are we done yet?" Vegeta growled when they exited the sports store. All patience he had was gone after spending hours at the mall when he should have been getting something more important done. Namely, getting his scouter connected to the intergalactic network so he could communicate with a technician who might be able to help him out.

Mrs. Brief checked her watch and frowned when she saw what time it was. "Oh, dear. We really do need to get back home so I can start dinner."

"Finally," Vegeta murmured.

"Aw, do we have to go already?" Bulma whined. She was having too much fun shopping to leave so soon. They had only been at the mall a few hours. There were countless more stores she wanted to stop in. But she knew that dinner took a long time to cook because of Vegeta's rather voracious appetite, so she didn't complain too much about their early departure.

Half an hour later Mrs. Brief pulled the car into the Capsule Corporation driveway and parked. "Alright, kids, now you go play until dinner."

Vegeta and Bulma hurriedly hopped out of the car and made their way to the compound. Vegeta was much happier about being back than Bulma, but that went without saying. Inside, Mrs. Brief handed the capsules to Bulma, who opened them and separated her items from Vegeta's and took hers up to her room to try on again. Her favorite thing to do after a trip to the mall was planning new outfits with all her new clothes.

Vegeta grabbed his things and went upstairs to put them away. He wasn't nearly as excited about clothes as Bulma was, but he was happy enough that he had things that would fit properly and that he wouldn't have to go shopping again hopefully for a very long time. Then again, at the rate he was growing, it might not be as long as he would like. 'Hopefully what I have now will last me until I leave this planet. I would rather not be subjected to that particular form of torture again.'

He yawned and stretched out on the bed and closed his eyes. Taking a nap before dinner sounded really nice, he decided. Within minutes he was fast asleep.

'It really is a shame I can't go swimming for three more weeks,' Bulma thought glumly as she looked at the hot pink cast on her arm. It was summer and she was ready go out and enjoy herself in the pool, but keeping her cast dry was more important. She sighed and looked herself over in her mirror. She loved her new clothes and couldn't wait to show them all off.

She put on a pair of running shorts and a plain white tank top and started punching the air, pretending she was in a real fight and she was dominating her opponent. She knew it was a silly fantasy, but if she was going to learn fighting from Vegeta, she needed to get in the right mindset, right? Her arms were a little sore from her workout the day before, so she didn't keep up with her game for long. Hopefully Vegeta wouldn't want to train again that evening. She was way too tired after all her shopping.

'He wouldn't make me train if I don't feel like it, would he?' Bulma shook her head, confident that Vegeta would go easy on her since she was a beginner. She had no idea what she had gotten herself into when she asked him to train her.

_A/N: So this chapter was a lot of fun to write. I hope you caught all the references I made to details in the show ;)_

_I'm trying to write new chapters for this, but in order to do so I need to go back and watch Dragon Ball... so it's taking quite a while. Still, I'm currently working on chapter 30, so at least I'm that far. Classes are officially over and I have absolutely nothing to do for the next week other than pack before graduation, so I'll hopefully get lots of writing done, on this story and my others._

_As always, I appreciate your reviews! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, it really does make my day. Thanks especially to Aela for your review on the last chapter (assuming you're reading this). That is a struggle I've had in this story as well as my others and I'm trying to work on it. I've been trying to work on that in some of the later chapters I already have written._


	12. Deal

Deal

Vegeta sat in the cold, unwelcoming waiting room by himself. His feet barely touched the floor and his chin rested in his upturned hands, his elbows resting on his knees. He was bored. Very bored. He'd been in the waiting room for nearly an hour and he was nodding off from time to time until he jerked awake and frantically took in his surroundings before calming down to the point of falling asleep again. It was not the happiest routine to go through a dozen times.

The young saiyan didn't know for sure why he was even there. He didn't ask to go and didn't feel any need to accompany the woman and her daughter on this little doctor visit. Yet, the idiot blonde woman brought him along, assuming he wouldn't want to be left alone in the compound for such a long period of time. In actuality, he would very much have liked to have some time to himself for a change. Introvert that he was, he was eager to get as much alone time as he could, but with the girl home every day now, he rarely got a moment to himself. She was always pestering him about something, either wanting to teach him more English or asking for him to continue teaching her how to fight.

That was something he was growing to admire about the girl, despite how annoying it was for him. She was unquestionably dedicated to learning to fight even though he could tell she didn't really enjoy it at all. She complained all day long about how sore she was, she cried like a baby if he hit her gently, and she was unable to land a single blow on him when he practically stood still for her. He did get some entertainment from her feeble efforts, but more than anything he found himself _not_ wanting to push her too hard and _not_ wanting to discourage her. That was the most irritating part of the whole ordeal. He was convinced he was going soft, and as much as he dreaded that, he couldn't stop it and for some reason didn't want to. Not with her.

He assumed that the length of his stay in the waiting room was due to the fact that the girl was finally getting that hideous thing removed from her arm. It was probably healed, and only after a little over six weeks. He snorted when he thought about the amount of time it took the pathetic girl to heal such an insignificant injury. Had it been him – without the aid of a regeneration tank – he would have been healed in three or four days. But, as he already knew, humans were a vastly inferior race who couldn't even heal in a decent amount of time when they were hurt.

Vegeta was glad she was getting her cast off, though. It would make teaching her fighting techniques easier since he wouldn't have to worry about the decreased mobility of her arm and hand. Also he wouldn't be so concerned about hurting her in their 'spars,' though he still needed to be careful since she was such a fragile creature. He could tell that she was gaining in strength slowly, but she would never in a million years have enough strength to withstand one of his more powerful blows. He could accidentally kill her if he didn't watch the amount of power he put into his attacks on her.

He was nodding off again when a door opened and the blue-haired girl raced out followed by her mother. Bulma ran over to Vegeta, who was jolted back to wakefulness when he heard the door, and held her arm up to show him it was free of its cast. She was grinning and practically trembling with excitement.

"About time you got that thing off," he commented dryly.

Bulma nodded and turned her arm this way and that to inspect it, making sure she didn't have any noticeable scars on the outside. Of course there wouldn't be; it wasn't as if the bone broke in a way that pierced through her skin. Still, it never hurt to make sure. She clenched her hand into a fist and mock punched Vegeta's cheek.

"I know, right? But it's off now and so you can teach me how to fight better."

He shoved her hand away from his face and stood up, stretching his arms over his head. "Yes, now I can stop holding back in your training."

Her eyes widened. "Holding back? You were holding back?"

"Of course," he said, "Would you really expect me to teach you at a normal level when you were handicapped?"

"No. But it's already hard! How much harder is it going to be now that I can use both arms?"

He smirked. She frowned. "A lot harder."

They walked out of the clinic and got in the hovercar, Bulma chattering the whole way home about all the fun things she could do now that she had her cast off. She was most excited about being able to go swimming and insisted Vegeta join her in this activity as soon as they got back to the compound. At first he refused; after getting in contact with Frieza's nearest base planet he had been trying to get his space pod repaired, but with Bulma home daily he found getting out of the compound to be a very difficult business.

"Come on, Vegeta," she whined, "One afternoon out in the sun won't kill you."

He snorted. "You have no idea."

Now accustomed to his doomsday attitude about ever having fun, Bulma dismissed his comment and twisted around in her seat to look back at the saiyan. "Please, Veggie? Just today?"

His lip curled in a snarl at the ridiculous – and offensive – nickname she had recently given him. He hated it almost as much as he hated the fact that she would eventually win him over with her constant pestering. Anyone else he could easily ignore, but she had a way of breaking through his defenses until he was driven crazy by her persistent demands to spend time together and he would oblige her.

"Stupid girl, I have things I need to do."

"Like what? What could possibly be better than hanging out with me?"

Vegeta sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Right. What could _possibly_ take precedence over your foolishness?"

"Are you being sarcastic?"

"How observant."

"Are you afraid of swimming or something? You never want to swim. Can you swim? I could teach you if you can't."

Vegeta turned his head to look out the window. He tuned her out as she prattled on, wondering how he was ever going to convince her that he was not interested in her attempts to befriend him. He'd tried the cold shoulder method at first, but it was ineffective. Outright insulting her had no successful outcomes. Pushing her away only made her cling to him more, and even training her was useless in the endeavor to get her out of his hair. What else could he try?

"Veggie? Hey, Vegeta! Stop ignoring me!"

He groaned and slammed his head back against the car seat. Her obnoxious voice pierced his concentration yet again. He entertained himself with a few ideas of how he could _permanently_ rid himself of her nagging before shaking them out of his head.

"What?" he snapped.

"Will you go swimming with me or not?" she demanded.

So she was still beating that dead horse. He shrugged one shoulder in defeat. "Whatever, brat, if it will make you shut up."

Bulma beamed at him and turned around in her seat for the rest of the ride home. She won again. She almost always did. He was a stubborn one, but she was stubborn, too. And unlike him, she was willing to use her strongest attack against him: her high-pitched whining and crocodile tears. She didn't know he could blast her into the next dimension, but it didn't matter anyway because he never would. He wasn't yet aware of it, but the blue-haired nine year-old heiress had grown on him.

"I'll make you two lunch and then you can go outside and play," Mrs. Brief said as she pulled into the compound driveway. "But remember not to swim right away after eating, dear."

"Ok, Mom!" Bulma shouted over her shoulder as she jumped out of the car and ran inside.

Mrs. Brief giggled at Vegeta's more dignified leave and capsulated her car. She was happy they were getting along so well. Their personalities were so different and yet so similar it was almost humorous. Vegeta still had a prickly personality, but she could see that her daughter was getting beyond his abrasive, protective exterior. She wasn't so clueless as not to see he was still guarded around her and her husband, so she was doubly glad that at least Bulma was getting through to him. The poor boy, something absolutely awful must have happened to him when he was younger to make him so cautious around others.

'Well, maybe terrible things happened before, but we won't let anything bad ever happen to him here,' she thought as she followed him into the compound. He continued down the hall and she turned to go to the kitchen to start cooking lunch.

Half an hour later Bulma and Vegeta were sitting in the kitchen eating while Mrs. Brief took some food to Dr. Brief in his laboratory. Bulma was giddy with excitement at the prospect of finally getting to swim. She was already three weeks into her summer break and hadn't been in the pool once. She had waited long enough to partake in her favorite summer pastime in her opinion.

"How about I teach you some more English before we go swimming?" she asked once Vegeta finished his enormous lunch.

He took a long drag of his water before answering, "Fine, if you train for an additional hour after dinner."

She pouted a little, but nodded. "That's fair."

"Hn." Vegeta pushed his chair back from the table and led the way upstairs to her room where she always gave him his English lessons.

Bulma sat down at her desk and glanced through all the notebooks they had used up. She was starting to run out of things to teach him. He was an exceptionally bright student, leaving her with little left to tutor him on. He had grammar mastered, so now she spent time teaching him new vocabulary and even started teaching him some of the other languages she knew. But, as with English, he learned those so fast he soon knew as much of them as she did.

"So, how about the names of the regions of Earth? They're all named after the former nations before they united."

"Whatever."

"Ok, hold on." Bulma got up and walked over to the large bookshelf she had in her room. It was filled with books meant to help her with her schoolwork or satisfy her insatiable curiosity about, well, everything. She pulled an atlas off the bottom shelf and took it to her desk where Vegeta was waiting. She opened it and started pointing out all the regions.

"Why is it," he asked after a while, "that there is only one global government but so many languages exist?"

Bulma rapped her fingers on the atlas as she thought about that. "I don't know. Everyone learns English, but I guess people just held on to their old languages in their regions. It's still a part of their cultural identity."

"It would seem to me that all these languages cause disunity."

"Maybe a little. I don't know. It's probably going to take a long time for all those languages to die out. Like yours. Where are you from anyway?" He didn't answer, so she continued, "It's only been a few generations since all the nations united."

Vegeta didn't understand why there were so many languages to begin with. From his experience, he knew most planets had less than a dozen distinct languages. Many – like his own – only had one. These humans were an enigma. Physically weak, they apparently had an extensive history of wars amongst themselves, and not always between two or more separate nations. In a sense, they were a warmongering race just as the saiyans were. The main difference aside from their reliance on weapons was their hypocritical façade of nonviolent, upright civility.

Bulma saw that his mind was drifting away from his lesson as it usually did when he had everything she was teaching him committed to memory. She closed the atlas and returned it to the bookshelf. It had been almost an hour since they finished lunch.

"We can go swimming now," she sang, nudging the saiyan with her elbow. "Go get changed into your trunks and meet me out at the pool."

"Hn." Vegeta stood up and strode out of her room, leaving her to change into one of her numerous swimsuits. He went to his guestroom and dug the Speedo out of the bottom of one of his drawers and changed. He went outside to the swimming pool but didn't see Bulma anywhere. 'Maybe the idiot drowned herself,' he thought as he looked into the pure blue water. Much to his disappointment – and repressed relief – there was no girl with matching blue hair in the pool. 'Where the hell is she, then?'

He was about to turn around and go back inside when he heard the door of the compound slam shut and the girl sprinted across the yard in his direction. Before he could think to dodge her, she tackled him into the pool. He only managed to get out a short shout of surprise before his mouth was filled with the bitter chlorine water.

Vegeta jumped out of the pool and fell to his hands and knees as he retched a few times. Bulma came up to the surface, and after pushing her wet hair out of her eyes, laughed at his display. His tail was extended behind him, bristled and dripping wet, and he was looking at her with a death glare that would have been effective if he hadn't looked like a wet cat.

"What's the deal, Veggie? Water too cold for you?" she teased.

He growled deep in his chest and spat the flavor of the water out of his mouth. "Why would you _want_ to immerse yourself in that foul water?"

"Maybe because I like it," she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest.

Vegeta spat again and pushed himself to his feet. "I do not. That water tastes and smells atrocious. It is giving me a headache."

"Quit your whining and get back in here."

"No."

"Veggie, it isn't going to kill you. Would you rather have nasty water with algae and crap in it?"

"Yes."

"You're impossible. It's really not so bad once you get used to it. Just don't swallow it and you'll be fine."

Vegeta spat one last time before stepping to the edge of the pool and glaring down at the offensive water. He had no desire to get in it again. Not only was the horrible taste lingering in his mouth, but his eyes were burning and it felt like his nostrils were inhaling fire. Still. If she could do it, so could he. Right? He balked at the idea of her showing him up at anything, even if it was as trivial as enduring the chlorine water.

"You can do it," she encouraged him. He turned his glare to her before gracefully diving into the water. He resurfaced behind her and forced back the urge to regurgitate his lunch.

"Happy now?" he grumbled.

"As a matter of fact, I am," she answered cheekily. "That was a really good dive, but I bet I could do better. Water is my element."

'Just because your hair looks like water doesn't mean you are a natural at swimming,' he thought with a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He watched with mild interest as Bulma climbed out of the water and dove back in.

"So how was it?" she asked once she came up to the surface for air.

He shrugged. "Adequate."

"What? Adequate, that's all you have to say?" she screamed.

"You asked, I answered honestly."

"You're such a jerk."

"Well, excuse me. If you do not want my opinion, do not ask for it."

"Fair enough," she conceded. "Then what did I do wrong?"

Wrong? What did she mean by wrong? Didn't she accomplish her goal of getting in the water? Isn't that all that mattered? He didn't think there was a right or wrong way to get in the water. She was obviously crazy. "What are you talking about?"

"My dive. What do I need to fix?"

"What do you mean 'fix?'"

"What I _mean_ is how can I make my dive _better_ than it was?"

"I do not know what constitutes a 'good' or 'bad' dive. If it gets you in the water, then I think it is adequate."

"You're no help." Bulma sighed as she flipped over and started backstroking around the pool.

"Hn." Vegeta watched her for a minute before he swam back to the edge of the pool and pulled himself out to sit on the edge. The noxious fumes were making his head spin and he needed to get out of the water for a while.

"So, Veggie," Bulma said as she lazily drifted by, "You want to race?"

"What would be the purpose?"

"To see who's a faster swimmer, duh."

He snorted. "As if that is not already obvious."

"It's not!" she shot back. "I know you're strong and fast and stuff, but that's not in the water."

"I am still 'strong and fast and stuff' in the water, girl."

"Talk all you want, until you prove it I don't believe you."

"Hn."

"What, are you a scaredy cat?"

"Scaredy what?"

"It's a colloquialism. In other words, are you afraid to race against me?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Stupid girl, I am not _afraid_ of anything."

"Everyone's afraid of something."

"Then I am afraid your incessant blathering will make my ears bleed."

"Blathering? Have you been reading the dictionary again? Anyway, why do you have to act so tough all the time? What do you dream about? That seems to scare you enough."

His expression darkened with barely suppressed rage. "And why," he hissed, "would you think that I have childish nightmares?"

Bulma didn't pick up on his change in mood as she continued her relaxed swimming around the pool. "Maybe the fact that you've woken me up a few times with your screaming. And anyway, I didn't say it was childish. I mean, crappy things have happened to you, it's normal you would have nightmares about it."

Vegeta's lips curled until his teeth were bared in a feral snarl. It was humiliating enough that she heard him, but it was made worse that she had the gall to bring it up and speak lightly of it. His tail bristled as it uncoiled from his waist and started lashing angrily. "Crappy things?" he asked, his voice low and shaking with fury. "Crappy? Girl, do not talk about things you couldn't possibly understand! You couldn't imagine the horrors I have endured."

"I never said it wasn't that bad –"

"Do you know how many times I have been to the brink of death?" he roared, leaping to his feet. "How many beatings nearly killed me, how many fights almost ended in my death, how many people I have seen killed…" In his anger he reverted to his native tongue, which was just as well since he was confessing his murderous ways and some of the worst tortures he was subjected to.

Bulma swam to the edge of the pool and hung on to it with eyes locked on Vegeta's trembling form. The dark irises of his eyes seemed to disappear and his knuckles were white as he clenched his fists tight enough to draw blood from his palms.

"Veggie? Calm down, I didn't mean to upset you."

She had never seen him like this before. She knew he had a bad temper, but she had never witnessed him losing control like this. She pulled herself out of the water and debated whether or not to reach out to him or keep her distance. In the end her fear won out when she saw sparks of electricity surrounding his body and a strong wind blew up out of nowhere and centered around him. Or was that her imagination? If it was, it seemed real enough.

Vegeta fell to the ground _and coughed up a mouthful of blood before his body started convulsing with shock. He groaned in pain but betrayed no other sound of discomfort even as a large booted foot started grinding his head into the cold metal floor. He grit his teeth and clawed at the floor, but he couldn't move. Several bones were broken in his legs and feet and the entire lower portion of his body was tingling after the last kick that landed on his spine. He was breathing hard and biting his tongue until it bled to keep from crying out in agony at the increasing pressure on his skull._

_ He heard the low, gravelly voice of Captain Ginyu mocking him, but with his blurred senses he couldn't make out what he was saying. His vision started fading in and out and he was sure he was going to die this time. His ki was fading faster than his vision as blood seeped out of the hole through his shoulder where a small beam of ki pierced through him._

_ "What's wrong, little monkey? Are you hurt?" That voice, that hideous mocking voice followed him into unconsciousness._

"Are you hurt?" Bulma rushed over to him when she saw him collapse and start twitching violently as if he were having a seizure. "Vegeta, hey, wake up! Please wake up. Oh, Kami, this is all my fault!" She knelt down beside him and started shaking his shoulders. She was about to run inside and get her mother when he moaned and clutched his head in his hands, the lingering pain of his memory making his head feel as if it were getting crushed again.

He spoke a long chain of curses in every language he knew before he cracked his eyes open and saw a face surrounded by aqua blue hair above him. He saw worry in the azure eyes. He blinked a few times and rubbed his temples gingerly.

"Are you ok?" Bulma asked, sitting down and resting his head in her lap. She ran her fingers through his thick hair, marveling at the strange, feathery texture.

Instead of answering, Vegeta tried to push himself up but fell back when a wave of dizziness overcame him. He released a shaky breath and made a conscious effort to relax his tense muscles. "What happened?" he slurred.

Bulma frowned. "You don't remember? You kind of freaked out and had a seizure or something. Does that happen to you often?"

He shook his head, not fully comprehending what she was saying. He looked at his hands when he smelled his own blood. The palm of each hand had four bleeding semi-circles. He sighed and tried to get up again, but this time his body wasn't willing to respond to his commands.

"Relax, Veggie. Just rest a couple minutes," Bulma told him gently. She ran her fingers through his hair again and smiled when he gave her a subtle nod of agreement.

"I didn't mean to belittle the things that happened to you, Veggie. You're right, I don't understand it and I have no right to talk about it. What you told me was horrible. I'm sorry."

"I don't want your pity," he spat. He felt so drained and he didn't know why. He was fine a few minutes ago.

"Yeah, yeah." Bulma scratched behind his ear and was startled when a low rumbling sound started in his chest.

If he was drained before, he was practically helpless now. Every muscle in his body was so relaxed he couldn't move, as much as he wanted to. His jaw was slack so he couldn't even tell the girl to stop her ministrations. His eyes closed and he fell into an almost hypnotic state until he couldn't even be bothered to care about his humiliating situation as his purring became more audible.

"So you're ok now?" she asked, her lips twitching with hidden amusement.

"Hn." He leaned his head into her hand as she continued scratching.

She broke into a wide grin. "I'm not even kidding when I say you're more like an animal than a person sometimes. Seriously, are you purring?"

"Hn…saiyans…do…" his voice trailed off in an incoherent mumble as he explained why he was so animalistic.

"What's a saiyan?"

"My people…" He sighed contentedly and nuzzled into her. He suddenly felt very tired and wanted to take a short nap in the comfort of the girl's lap.

When she realized what he was doing she considered shoving him off her lap, but he was really too cute to disturb. She maneuvered into a more comfortable position and slowly raked her fingers through his upswept hair. It was weird how it defied gravity even when wet. But then, just about everything about Vegeta was kind of weird. Maybe that was why she liked him so much. He was an oddball like her.

She hadn't really understood anything he said after he regained consciousness. It sounded like gibberish in his half-asleep state. With Vegeta asleep she was able to think about what happened to start his bizarre behavior. They were talking when all of a sudden he blew a gasket and had some royal temper tantrum. He was frightening. How was it that he seemed to generate some kind of power around himself?

"You're a strange one, alright," she murmured. "I've got to learn more about you."

Vegeta didn't sleep long, only fifteen minutes, but he shot up when he realized where he was and why he could smell the blue-haired girl so close to him. He grimaced when he looked at her and backed away until he was precariously close to the edge of the pool.

"What the hell is going on?" he hissed.

Bulma laughed at his reaction and stood up, patting the dirt off herself. "So you still don't remember? You passed out and then went to sleep."

"Let me clarify. What the hell did you do to me?"

"Nothing."

He growled as his tail unwrapped itself from his waist and flicked from side to side. "You did _something._"

"Nope."

Vegeta sighed and rubbed his temples. There was no possible way he put himself in such a position. He wracked his brain for the elusive memory of the past half hour. He remembered swimming. Then the idiot girl challenged him to a race, which he declined. Then… a metamemory flashed through his mind. Ah, yes, he lost himself in a flashback. But then what? He woke up, his mind still hazy, and felt someone scratching behind his ear…and then lost consciousness again. He slowly shook his head when he remembered what happened. He was disgusted with himself for losing his grip on reality. But he was more irritated with Bulma for taking advantage of his vulnerable state.

"Do not ever touch me again," he snarled.

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Fine, I guess that means you can't teach me to fight anymore, if I can't touch you."

"Fine by me."

She scowled at him. "Seriously, what's the big deal? It's not like I hurt you."

"I would rather you have hurt me!"

"Ok, I get it! You don't want me to be nice to you. You don't have to blow a fuse over it."

He ignored her last comment and wrapped his tail around his waist again. He figured there was nothing more to discuss, so he headed back to the compound where inside he could hopefully have some solitude for a while.

"Wait, Vegeta!" Bulma smiled shyly when he turned to glare at her. "I was wondering… when you got really mad… were there really…sparks…around you?"

He stared at her a few seconds before continuing back to the compound. "You were imagining things, girl."

"No, I don't think I was," she told herself. Either way, he obviously wasn't going to talk about it. She sighed and dove in the pool to swim a while longer. It wasn't as much fun alone, but that was ok. She needed time to think anyway.

At dinner that evening Bulma was abnormally quiet and couldn't seem to keep her eyes off Vegeta. He was mostly ignoring her but occasionally snarled when he caught her staring for too long. She knew he was keeping secrets and wanted to figure out what they were. Vegeta, on the flip side, was determined to keep everything to himself. He'd already let too much slip when he wasn't being careful.

"Bulma, dear, how was your swim this afternoon? Did you have a good time with Vegeta?" Mrs. Brief asked as she passed the steamed vegetables to her daughter. She could sense the tension between them and wanted to make it go away. They were getting along so well earlier in the afternoon.

"Yeah, Mom, it was a lot of fun," Bulma mumbled.

Vegeta snorted when he heard her response. 'Fun' was an interesting way to describe it. Not that he was going to contradict her. He didn't feel like talking to anyone or bringing up what happened.

"I'm glad, honey," Mrs. Brief said. Now that that issue was taken care of, she felt much better.

"Yeah." Bulma pushed her food around her plate, not really having much of an appetite. She watched Vegeta eat out of the corner of her eye. He wasn't going to contribute anything to the conversation.

Dr. Brief dropped his evening newspaper on the table and looked over at the kids. Neither looked happy with the other. Or maybe they weren't happy in general. His mustache twitched in mild amusement when the saiyan's lip curled in a snarl and his daughter quickly looked away from him and resumed playing with her food. His wife may have been convinced that everything was copacetic, but he wasn't. He wouldn't interfere though. Resolving conflicts was not his forte.

Vegeta finished eating and stood up to leave the kitchen. "Don't forget your end of the deal, girl," he said on his way out.

Bulma groaned and slumped down in her chair. Vegeta _did_ swim with her so she had to train for an hour. It wasn't going to be much fun if he was still in a bad mood.

"What deal did you make with him?" Dr. Brief asked.

Bulma pushed her chair back from the table and got up. "I have to train with him because he went swimming with me."

"Do you think all this 'training' is a good idea?" he asked his wife when his daughter left the room.

Mrs. Brief shrugged. "She isn't getting hurt and I think it's wonderful that they're spending time together. He's a sweet boy, he just needs a friend."

"You're probably right," Dr. Brief conceded. He finished his dinner and went to the indoor garden to see what the kids were up to.

"Like this," he heard Vegeta growl when he opened the door of the garden.

"I can't do that!"

"Yes, you can. Stop whining and do it."

There was a shriek and a soft thud followed by grumbling. "I told you I can't do it."

Dr. Brief walked into the garden and saw Vegeta standing near his daughter who was sitting on the ground pouting. Vegeta rolled his eyes.

"Get up."

"I don't want to."

"I don't care."

Bulma reluctantly stood up and crossed her arms over her chest. "Show me how to do it again."

"It's not that hard."

"For you."

"Fine. Watch carefully because I am not going to show you again." Vegeta shifted his weight to his left foot and raised his right leg and kicked it high to the side.

Bulma frowned. "I don't get it. You make it look so easy, but I always fall over."

"Then you need to learn to balance."

"So teach me."

Dr. Brief strolled over to where they were training, chuckling lightly at their banter. He normally didn't interrupt them, but he was interested in watching their little session for a while.

"Stand on one foot for ten minutes," Vegeta said.

"What? Are you crazy?"

"No. Now shut up and do it." Vegeta waited for her to comply, which she eventually did. "Stop rocking like that. Hold still."

Bulma sighed in exasperation and tried to stop herself from wobbling around. It was harder than it looked and after only one minute she wanted to put her right foot on the ground. She knew if she did that, though, he would make her start the whole time over.

Dr. Brief leaned against a tree and pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He put one in his mouth without lighting it, knowing Vegeta hated the scent of the smoke. He chewed the cigarette and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he watched Bulma struggling to balance on one foot. Maybe this training would be good for her. If anyone could do it, Vegeta would be the one to teach her some discipline. He and his wife just didn't have the heart to do it. He would admit before anyone that his daughter was a bit spoiled. It occurred to him as it had often before how mature Vegeta was for his age. Though only a little older than Bulma, he had the mentality of someone three times his age. He was always so serious, well-disciplined, and reserved. What could have made someone so young act so grown-up? He shrugged, figuring he would never know the answer to that question, content with the young boy being able to help his daughter learn to control her mercurial temper and sharp tongue that so frequently got her in trouble.

"How long has it been?" Bulma whined as she almost lost her balance and fell over.

"Three minutes."

Dr. Brief chuckled again, knowing as well as Vegeta that it had been closer to five minutes. But Bulma didn't know that, so she didn't argue and steadied herself to go another seven minutes on one foot.

"Maybe if I had a tail like you this would be easier."

Vegeta snorted. "The only thing that will make it easier is practice."

"That's what you say about everything."

"Because it is the truth."

"I don't feel like I'm getting better at anything."

"You need to practice more."

"So you've told me."

"Then listen and do it instead of complaining so much."

"I'm not complaining!" she shouted, again nearly falling over.

Vegeta didn't grace that comment with a response. Instead he snickered to himself as he circled around her, assessing the way her muscles were trembling with the effort it took to hold her stationary position. She was still so weak. She would always be weak. But if there was anyone who could make her stronger, he could do it. If he cared enough. He hardly bothered pushing her because he didn't care enough to invest the effort it would take. More than anything he did it to humor her and it was a cheap form of entertainment for him.

"How long's it been?"

"Five minutes."

"It's been longer than that!"

"Would you rather do it for ten hours instead of ten minutes?"

"No! That would be insane! No one could do that."

He sneered at her and circled around her again. "_I_ did it in my own training."

She gaped at him. "No way!"

"Girl, I do not lie. I have told you before, I was born with a natural affinity for this sort of thing. What seems difficult for you is child's play to me."

"Hate to break it to you, but you _are_ still a kid."

He shook his head and scowled at the floor. "I was never a child. I was never allowed to have any sort of childhood. I resent being referred to anything but an adult."

"Well, that's just too bad," Bulma informed him. "You're too young to be an adult."

"Being a child or being an adult is not fully contingent upon age. Experience and responsibility can age a toddler enough to be an adult before he can walk on his own."

"What sort of responsibility would anyone give a toddler? Or a little kid? Everyone knows they couldn't handle it."

Dr. Brief was interested in the turn their conversation was taking. It started with Bulma trying to distract herself from the task at hand so she wouldn't notice the burning in her leg, but it turned into something deeper along the way. Vegeta was telling her more about himself than she seemed to realize. But Dr. Brief understood the underlying meaning behind his words. He responded to Bulma's questions and assertions vaguely, impersonally, but it was clear that he was speaking as one who knew from his own experience what he was saying.

Vegeta sighed and raked his hand through his hair. She always talked too much and ended up making him say more than he wanted to. What was it about her that made him let his guard down like that? "It's been ten minutes. Stand on your other foot for another ten."

While Bulma switched feet Dr. Brief pushed away from the tree he was leaned against and quietly left the indoor garden. He could see Vegeta's discomfort in revealing anything about his past, and he knew his presence there was only making it harder. Though Vegeta never really acknowledged him, he knew the boy knew he was there watching. Vegeta had the uncanny ability to always know when someone was lurking around. Perhaps if he vacated the area Bulma would be able to glean some more information out of him. It wasn't that he hoped she would break his confidence by telling her parents what Vegeta said, but he, like his wife, was convinced that Bulma was successfully reaching out to him and could perhaps help him heal psychologically.

Vegeta watched the old man leave and released some of the tension in his body when the door latched shut behind him. He didn't really mind his presence, but he felt more comfortable with fewer people around. One person was about his limit. After that he got edgy. It didn't matter who the people were, aside from his compatriots Raditz and Nappa. Their loyalty was indisputable. But anyone else… well, he never knew who he could trust and it was easier to keep his eye on one person instead of many.

"How long has it been?"

"Not long enough." Vegeta sighed and rubbed his temples. The blue-haired girl was driving him insane, but it was his own fault for forcing her to train for a whole hour. He still had about half an hour to go, assuming she didn't wimp out on him. She had never lasted much longer than twenty minutes at a time.

Bulma frowned and flailed her arms as she nearly lost her balance. She was tired and bored and wanted to do something fun. Even practicing a simple blocking motion was more entertaining than standing around on one foot with nothing else to keep her mind busy. Apparently Vegeta was all talked out because he wasn't even humoring her by telling her how much longer she had to go anymore.

"So what do you want to do tomorrow?" she asked after another minute ticked by in silence.

"Train."

"Other than that."

'Contact Frieza's base and get some idiot technician to guide me through how to repair the coordinate system of my space pod,' he thought. He couldn't tell her that. So what could he tell her to make her leave him alone long enough to get something done? He wracked his brain for a good answer but came up empty-handed. He shrugged.

Bulma interrupted his thoughts as she continued talking. "Because if you don't have anything planned then I was thinking we could talk my parents into taking us to the beach. It's a lot of fun. You've been to the beach before, haven't you?"

"No. And I do not want to go. I have things to do."

"Like what? I'm sure it can wait, Veggie."

"It has been waiting long enough. Either you will stop distracting me from getting this done or I will forcibly remove you from my presence so I can get something productive done tomorrow. Then, when it is finished, we can _hang out_," he snapped. He left out the part where, once he was done doing what needed to be done, he would leave her and the planet behind and never see her again.

Vegeta left her standing on one foot and went to the other side of the garden to do his own training. He talked too much and needed to get away from the blue-haired girl. He ignored her as she shouted at him to come back, threatening to quit training early. He didn't care. He didn't want anything to do with her anymore. When did he start allowing her past the barrier he erected around himself? _Why_ did he let her in? He couldn't figure it out, and he didn't trust himself around her until he could.

_A/N: Aw, they're getting closer. How cute._

_Answering reviews: Vegeta got to Earth in early March, went to CC in early April, and this chapter takes place in July. He is 11 at the start and Bulma is 9. Frieza knows where Vegeta is because of the transmission he sent before his scouter went on the fritz. A rescue team has been sent to get him. Bulma could still train with her broken arm because the cast was only on her forearm, so it didn't completely immobilize her. Vegeta could find Goku telepathically if he were looking for him, but since he doesn't know he's there he doesn't make the effort._


	13. Poison

Poison

Two space pods crashed into the surface of the planet, shaking the ground for miles around. From the space pods emerged two saiyans – the destroyers of worlds. The future destroyers of the world they just arrived on.

"This place is a dump," Raditz groused, looking around at the gray, barren landscape. "Who would buy this dustball?"

Nappa grunted his agreement as he checked his scouter for signs of life. It took a few minutes for it to find any, and what it found was pathetically weak. Nappa frowned. "This planet isn't going to be any fun at all. Let's get this over with."

"When is purging ever fun anymore?" Raditz grumbled. They hadn't had a challenging mission since Vegeta got stuck on some mudball. It was part of their punishment for his pod malfunctioning. They were given boring purges and too many clean-up missions. There were countless beatings between their missions, but they weren't growing in strength since they were also being starved on top of everything else.

The two saiyans flew toward the weak energy signals, ready to finish the pointless purge and get back to Frieza's ship where they would endure more beatings because of their prince's absence. A few minutes passed before they landed in a small, primitive village with fewer than a thousand inhabitants. No other energy signals were to be found on the rest of the planet. It was more barren than they originally thought.

They landed in the center of the village, frightening all the people around who saw them. The people – for lack of a better term – looked more like giant groundhogs with pale gold fur, dark brown faces, and glowing green eyes. Weak. Cute, almost.

"What are these things?" Raditz asked when he saw them.

Nappa shrugged. "Who cares? Let's blast them and get out of here."

Raditz wasn't going to argue. He raised his left hand and in one blast obliterated a quarter of the village. Pandemonium began as fires spread and the creatures ran for safety, screaming in their proto-language in fear. The sound was enough to get the saiyans' bloodlust boiling.

The long-haired saiyan laughed at the devastation. "Hey, Nappa you think they're any good roasted? I could go for some meat."

Nappa licked his lips and laughed with his fellow saiyan. "I say we give it a try."

In less than ten minutes every one of the planet's natives were killed. Once they were all dead, Nappa and Raditz started a fire and picked some of the healthiest-looking corpses and tore them limb from limb, roasting the pieces over the fire. They hardly waited for the meat to cook before they started devouring it, blood and juice dripping down their chins and hands. They were worse than barbarians in their starved state, frantically eating to sate their hunger.

"It's not the best," Raditz said between bites, "but it's good enough."

Rather than responding, Nappa grabbed another leg from the fire and ravenously tore into it. He felt the same way about the somewhat bitter, stringy meat, but he was hungry enough to eat about anything. He growled a warning to the other saiyan when he reached for a large piece of meat he claimed as his own.

Raditz backed off and threw a young creature's corpse over the fire to cook while he finished the meat he was eating. He had already eaten two adults, but his hunger was not satisfied. It had been far too long since his last meal. His body was metabolizing the food faster than he could eat. So he, like Nappa, gorged himself on the dead people until he could hardly move, he was so full.

When they were finished with their grisly meal they returned to their space pods, all set to return to Frieza's ship. They finished the purge with plenty of time to spare, so hopefully they would be given a reprieve from at least one of their daily beatings. Their hopes weren't high, but there was always the slim chance that Frieza would be in a good mood…

"Lord Frieza, the saiyan pods are set to arrive in ten minutes."

The tyrant nodded at the soldier's report and turned to look out the huge window in his throne room. All he could see was the endless black void of space, but soon enough two small spheres would come into view. Then he would see if they fell for his trap. He grinned in wicked anticipation.

The next few minutes crawled by before the saiyans reached Frieza's ship. When they got out of their space pods they didn't look good. They were pale, sweaty, and exhausted. Still, despite feeling worse than they looked, they showed no weakness in front of the staff at the hangar.

"Welcome back, monkeys," came the cold, smooth voice of Frieza's right-hand man. "You are to report to Lord Frieza immediately."

The saiyans glared at Zarbon's back as he led them to the lizard's throne room. Neither of them felt like answering to their tormentor, but they knew they had no choice. With heads held high they walked to the foot of Frieza's throne and kneeled down before him.

Frieza smirked when he saw the saiyan warriors. They looked worse than he ever hoped for. They must have really gone to town on their mission. "Report."

Nappa took a deep breath before saying, "We completed the purge in less than an hour, Lord Frieza. There is no more life on Planet 00713QS."

"Very good, monkeys," Frieza praised them patronizingly. It wasn't as if their mission had been difficult in any sense of the word. "I do hope you didn't consume any of the civilians while you were there. They were mutants whose bodies contained a poisonous substance to resist the disease that wiped out most of their population."

The saiyans visibly paled despite already having a sickly pallor.

Frieza waved his hand and turned his hovering throne to look out the window behind him as he had done before their arrival. "You are dismissed."

As the saiyans turned to leave they heard Frieza, Zarbon, and Dodoria burst into cruel laughter. They knew the saiyans ate the natives and inadvertently poisoned themselves. Even if they hadn't known before from the obvious physical signs, the expressions on the faces of the saiyans gave it away when Frieza told them about the planet's inhabitants.

"It can't be deadly," Raditz hissed once the doors were closed behind them. "He wouldn't kill us that easily."

"No, but it's probably going to be worse than death," Nappa groaned. He winced as a sharp pain shot through his entire body and ended in a splitting soon. Knowing Frieza's cruelty, though, that was unlikely.

The saiyans went back to their quarters and collapsed on their hard cots, instantly unconscious. They were going to rest as much as possible before they were inevitably assigned a new

Raditz agreed. He already felt miserable and he could see that Nappa did too. What they were feeling now was just the beginning. If they had any luck, the poison would get out of their mission. And it was likely they would be sent on a mission soon for the sole purpose of making them feel even worse. At least they hadn't received a beating. Yet.

_A/N: And that is what you get when you eat strange creatures. Poor Nappa and Raditz._

_Frieza does know where Vegeta is. He purposely sent a rescue team from far away because he wants an excuse to "punish" Vegeta worse. The longer he's gone, the worse it is._

_Review!_


	14. Attachments

Attachments

Vegeta opened a drawer and rifled through its contents before slamming it shut and pulling another open. He couldn't find what he needed. How hard could it possibly be to find a coil of wire with a width of ten microns? He growled in frustration and kicked the drawer closed when he again failed to find any wire of a small enough gauge. He pushed the button on his scouter and waited for it to connect with the base planet he managed to contact. After waiting a few minutes the transmission went through.

"Prince Vegeta? Do you have the wire?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes. He was thankful that he got in contact with a technician willing to help him, but he was still very annoying. "No. I can't find any the right size. Are you sure it has to be that small?"

"Yes. Larger wire will not fit in the available space once you reinstall the tracking system."

"Why do I need the damn tracker?" Vegeta growled. "I'm going to return to a base and get a new pod anyway."

"You have to have the tracker in case you don't make it to base."

Vegeta sighed, knowing the technician was right. If he crashed again, having a working tracking device could save his life. He still wasn't happy about it, though.

"Fine. I'll keep looking, but I don't think I'll find any."

"You could wait until the team reaches you."

Vegeta growled again. "Yes, I'll just sit on my ass waiting for someone to come rescue me so Frieza will beat me to death when I finally get back a year later!"

He heard the technician sigh in resignation. "Let me know when you've got the wire." The transmission was cut.

The young saiyan pulled the scouter off and raked his hand through his hair. There were no more repairs he could make until he had that one elusive material. It probably didn't exist on the mudball if he couldn't find it at Capsule Corporation. He frowned. He had no choice but to ask the old man if there was any. Grumbling to himself, he stalked out of the laboratory to find Dr. Brief.

"Veggie! There you are! Mom sent me to get you for lunch," Bulma yelled down the hall when she saw the flame-haired boy coming her way.

He scowled at her. "I'm not hungry."

She put her hands on her hips and quirked an eyebrow. "You expect me to believe that? You're always hungry. Now come on."

"Fine, I'm hungry," he ground out through clenched teeth, "but I don't want to eat. I have something I need to do."

"You _need_ to eat. Whatever else you're doing can wait."

Vegeta's tail uncoiled from his waist and twitched behind him. He wanted to hurt her for her insolence. Really, he did. But something he couldn't name was holding him back. So instead of strangling her as his hands were itching to do, he snarled and went with Bulma to the kitchen to eat.

"Hello, sweetie," Mrs. Brief greeted him when he went in to sit at the table. She finished mixing up the tuna salad and carried the large bowl to the table. There were already a few loaves of bread and bags of potato chips set out.

"What you been doing all morning?" Bulma asked as she sat down next to Vegeta.

He grabbed a bag of chips and started eating without answering. What he was doing did not concern her and he wasn't going to humor her this time. He watched Mrs. Brief as she smeared the tuna salad on a slice of bread and put another slice of bread on top of it. She was merrily humming to herself and, as usual, smiling way too much. He accepted the sandwich she gave him and sniffed it before deciding it was safe to eat and took a big bite of it.

Seeing she wasn't going to get an answer to her question, Bulma tried a different approach. "So I was wondering if you'd go to the park with me today."

Vegeta shook his head, never pausing in his eating. He had no interest in wasting another whole afternoon with the girl. More often than he liked to admit she coerced him into doing trivial activities like swimming, playing childish games, watching movies, or reading books. His curiosity kept getting the better of him, but today he wouldn't let it. No way.

"Come on, Veggie," Bulma whined. "It'll be a lot of a fun."

"That's the same claim you always make that never persuades me."

"You're such a grouch."

"How observant. Where is your sire?"

"Dad? Why do you want to find him?"

"That is none of your concern."

Bulma sighed when he gave his typical response. "He's probably in the indoor garden if he wasn't in his laboratory."

Vegeta nodded and pushed his chair back from the table. He needed to find the old man and ask about the wire. He left the kitchen before anyone could protest his hasty departure and unfinished lunch. He ran to the indoor garden and practically tore the doors off the hinges in his hurry. He walked into the garden and looked around for the old man, not immediately spotting him.

He whirled around when he heard someone behind him, a ball of ki ready in the palm of his hand as he prepared to defend himself against an attack. He released his breath and allowed the ki to dissipate when he saw the old scientist riding his bicycle while humming an off-pitch tune to himself. There was a stinking trail of smoke following after him as his cigarette slowly smoldered away under his mustache.

"Vegeta, my boy, what are you doing in here? Shouldn't you be eating lunch?" Dr. Brief asked when he saw the young saiyan standing in the garden watching him ride by.

Vegeta shook his head, refusing to let himself get distracted by the man's wandering thoughts and questions. "I require something that I could not find in your laboratory to make repairs on my dhastrot."

"Your dhastrot? You mean the device Bulma helped you fix was something else?"

Vegeta pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head again. The old man was a genius, but he had the memory of a goldfish. "Yes. Anyway, I need a wire that has a width of no more than ten microns. Do you have any?"

Dr. Brief stopped riding his bike and rubbed his chin as he thought about the boy's request. Wire that small existed, but it was generally only used for computer chips. "How much do you need?"

Vegeta shrugged one shoulder. "No more than a foot total, I would guess."

Dr. Brief stroked his mustache before dropping his cigarette in the grass and grinding it into the dirt under his heel. "I could probably manage that. Come with me and I'll see what I can find."

The scientist and the saiyan walked to the laboratory in silence. Dr. Brief led Vegeta to the far side of the laboratory where most of the cabinets and drawers were locked and the most expensive, rarest, and top secret materials were kept. He unlocked one of the cabinets and pulled out a roll of what appeared to be practically invisible wire. It was exactly what Vegeta needed.

"Now I can't give you too much of this, son," Dr. Brief said as he measured out a foot of the tiny wire. "So be careful with it."

Vegeta took the wire and carefully coiled it up and tucked it in his pocket for safe keeping. He didn't plan on wasting the precious material if he could help it. It would be hard to work with, being so small and nearly invisible, but he was determined to do it in order to get his space pod working again. With a nod of thanks, Vegeta turned on his heel and dashed out of the laboratory to get back to his space pod and contact the technician who would tell him what, exactly, he needed to do with it.

Dr. Brief watched the flame-haired boy leave, his mustache twitching as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his lab coat. He was a hard one to figure out, for sure. He was a brilliant boy, cold, aloof, maybe even paranoid, but something about him was endearing. Perhaps his need for love and respect. Perhaps his mysterious past that he never willingly mentioned. Perhaps it was just that he was, whether he realized it or not, becoming friends with Bulma. Either way, the Briefs considered him a part of the family. That was why Dr. Brief was so uncomfortable providing the materials he needed for his 'dhastrot.' Somehow he knew it wouldn't end well, but he also could see it was something the boy needed to do. He was caught in the middle, not wanting any harm to come to him yet not knowing what else he could do but help.

'There's something strange about that boy,' he mused as he shuffled to the kitchen for his lunch. 'I just can't place my finger on it.'

When he entered the kitchen, Bulma, who was rather downcast after their houseguest left, perked up with a cheerful smile. "Hey, Daddy. Did Vegeta find you? Where is he?"

Dr. Brief sat down at the table and started making himself a sandwich. "Yes, he found me. He's gone to work on his dhastrot, I believe."

"His what? Oh, that thing he keeps talking about when I try to get him to play with me." Bulma frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. She was starting to take on some of Vegeta's mannerisms after being around him so much. "Do you know when he'll be back?"

"I haven't a clue," Dr. Brief replied.

Bulma sighed. Vegeta was good at the disappearing act. She didn't know how he could leave so fast or how he got to wherever his thing was. She didn't even know what it was. Maybe, if she had been able to help him fix his communicator, she would be able to help him fix his dhastrot, though she had no idea what it might be. Maybe she could ask him if he needed help next time she saw him. Until then, she needed to find a way to entertain herself for the afternoon.

"I wish he wouldn't leave so often," she grumbled as she stood up.

Mrs. Brief giggled at her daughter's complaint. How easily she overlooked the fact that Vegeta had spent every day with her for the past two weeks even when he insisted he had more important things to do. Have him leave one day to do his own thing and Bulma would perceive that as his regular behavioral pattern.

"If you still want to go to the park I could take you," she told her daughter as she started clearing the table.

Bulma thought about her mother's offer for a minute. It wouldn't be as much fun without someone her age to play with, but she had been cooped up at the compound for quite a while and she wanted to get out into the city and do something different for a change. She nodded and smiled at her mother. "That would be great, Mom!"

"Alright, honey. Help me with the dishes and then we'll go."

Bulma skipped over to the sink and started washing the dishes while Mrs. Brief continued bringing them over from the table. It wasn't long before they were all washed, dried, and put away, ready to go for dinner. She practically dragged her mother out the front door in her hurry to get to the park to have some fun.

"Bulma, dear, you need to slow down," Mrs. Brief said as she fought to stay on her feet behind her blue-haired daughter.

"C'mon, Mom," Bulma whined. She let go of her mother's hand and ran around the car to get in the passenger seat. If she were going by herself or with Vegeta she would just walk to the park, but she knew her mother wasn't as big a fan of walking two miles.

Mrs. Brief climbed into the driver's seat and before long they were on their way to West City Park. Bulma was bouncing in her seat with excitement, completely oblivious to her mother's failed attempts to sing along with the songs playing on the radio. She just wanted to get out in the sun and play somewhere away from the compound. Even if she didn't have her only friend with her, she would still manage to have fun by herself. She always managed before he came into her life.

Vegeta landed next to his space pod and put his scouter on and pushed the button to make a connection with the same base as before. Now that he had the wire he needed he would be able to make quite a bit of progress on his repairs and then it wouldn't be long before he could leave the worthless mudball and return to his slave-driver and theoretically be saved a more severe beating. After waiting a few minutes the transmission went through and his scouter crackled to life as a technician on the other end established the connection.

"Prince Vegeta?"

"Yes. I have the wire," the saiyan boy reported when he recognized the voice of one of the few technicians in Frieza's army who would help him.

"Very good. Now, you should see a transistor switch in the bottom right area of the space where the tracking system was. Do you see it?"

Vegeta peered into the small space and found what he was looking for. "Yes."

"Disconnect it from the microchip."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that without breaking it?"

"Don't worry about it. It's broken anyway."

Grumbling under his breath, Vegeta pulled the transistor free from the microchip and turned it over in his hand. "Alright, it's disconnected. Now what?"

"You should be able to open it and see the inside now. Can you tell me what you see?"

Vegeta opened the transistor and inspected its innards. It was all so tiny it was hard to describe what was going on – or not going on. He mentally berated himself for not thinking to bring a magnifying device that would make work with such small electronic parts much easier. But the last thing he wanted to do at the moment was take the time to return to the Capsule Corporation compound to get such a device and return to continue with the repairs. He would have to make do with his superior saiyan vision.

"It looks like the old wire is burned out and something is melted near the bottom."

"Good, that shouldn't be hard to fix. I need you to pull the old wire free and replace it with the new wire you have. It should fit. Don't worry about the melted part, it won't affect anything."

Vegeta rolled his eyes. Why would they put something in there that wasn't important? He wasn't going to argue, though. He pulled out the old wire and cut off a piece of the new wire that was just long enough to go where it needed to go with no extra length. "Done."

"The transistor should be functional now."

"That's it?" Vegeta wondered aloud. He shook his head and put the transistor back on the microchip as he had found it. "Now what?"

For the next couple hours the technician on Frieza's base planet walked Vegeta through many of the repairs in the control board of his space pod. By the time they were finished, the pod was finally able to at least power up, which was a great improvement from its previous state. There were several more subsystems that needed to be fixed, but it would require Vegeta going to gather more supplies, and the technician had other transmissions coming in that needed to be attended to. In any case, Vegeta was a big step closer to getting off the earth and back to his life.

Once the transmission was cut, Vegeta sat back in the seat of his space pod and stared at the floor between his feet. The longer he stayed with the Briefs the less he wanted to leave. Not that he had ever been thrilled about going back to his life of slavery, but he knew it was inevitable. It was go back or be killed. He was not allowed a life of peace no matter how well he could fit in with the humans and pretend to be one of them. No, destiny was pulling him away from the family that had accepted him as one of their own. Why he was so reluctant to leave them was what confused him the most. Why should he care? He didn't see _them_ as family. The only family he had was dead. His home was gone. This place had nothing to offer him.

And yet there he sat, wishing he never had to leave. Wishing he could return to Capsule Corporation and never come back to finish fixing his dhastrot. Wishing he could live with the Briefs for the rest of his life and never have to think about Frieza again. But that was impossible. Even if he didn't have to worry about anybody ever finding him to take him back or kill him, what about the last of his proud race? What about Nappa and Raditz? They weren't much. Brainless oafs, really, but they were all he had left. They were the last survivors of his people, and as their prince it was his responsibility to look after them. Obviously he couldn't do that when he was on Earth and they were with Frieza who was more than likely putting them through hell because of his disappearance. As if they had anything to do with it. It didn't matter. The lizard would use any excuse he could find to abuse the saiyans, and Vegeta's pod malfunctioning provided the best opportunity he'd had in a long time to beat them senseless. So it was Vegeta's duty to return to protect the helpless idiots. Even if that meant being a distraction from them and receiving punches on their behalf.

But could he really return on his own? That would give away the fact that the little mudball had at least some sort of technology that Frieza could take advantage of. There might be some great minds there to enslave and bend to his will and he would destroy the rest. Not that Vegeta really cared about the human race all that much. They were weaklings, fools. But he knew that the 'great minds' included the old man and the blue-haired girl. Could he live with himself if they were taken by Frieza and used for his evil purposes? He shook his head. Why should he care? Why?

He couldn't shake the thoughts that were invading his mind. He couldn't let Frieza get his cruel hands on the Briefs. He wouldn't let him touch Earth. It was a planet still free of the tyrant's rule and it should stay that way. He tried to console himself, telling himself that the only reason he cared was because of his rebellion against his master. He only wanted to prevent Frieza from spreading his empire, even if it was only keeping him away from one measly little planet without many valuable resources or a suitable location for a new base planet.

Who was he kidding? He was growing attachments.

Vegeta discovered that he was scared of his own feelings. They were something he had been suppressing for most of his life. Emotions. Attachments. Concern for others. He ignored it all until he lost touch with it. Even his 'attachment' to Raditz and Nappa was based solely on his duty as prince to protect them. He didn't care about them because he particularly _liked_ them. Not that he hated them, but their lives meant little more than anyone else's. The only thing that made them stand apart from the rest was the fact that they were the last of his dead race.

But these feelings he had in relation to the Briefs, that was different. He didn't want to protect them from Frieza because of duty. It wasn't even in return for their hospitality. It was a genuine concern for their well-being. He wanted them to live in freedom. He wanted them to never know the hardships he faced his whole life. He wanted them to stay just as they were: Innocent, naïve even. Untainted by the debauchery of the lizard.

And that was why he _had_ to leave. More than to preserve his own life, he had to keep the lizard away from Earth. He had to make sure he didn't chase his 'pet monkey' down, find the planet to be suitable for sale, and have it purged and sold. Or if he found it unworthy, destroy it as he destroyed Vegeta-sei. He found a sort of surrogate family in the Briefs. He never wanted a family after his parents were murdered by the lizard. He never looked for love and acceptance from anyone. He didn't want it or need it. All he wanted was the respect of the other soldiers in Frieza's army. And revenge. He desperately wanted revenge. That desire alone kept him going when every other part of him was screaming at him to end his miserable existence.

'What the hell is wrong with me?' he wondered. 'I shouldn't care about them. I learned long ago that concerning myself with others only leads to further pain. Frieza will rip them away from me in the worst way imaginable. And then what? I'll have destroyed them and let their destruction further tear me apart. I can't allow myself to have this vulnerability. I'm afraid it's too late to change it though.'

He stepped out into the hot July sun and sighed deeply. He was at war with himself inside. He knew he needed to be a cruel, heartless bastard to survive in Frieza's army, but he was unable to rid himself of the strings of attachment binding him to the Briefs. He wanted to leave to protect them but also wanted to stay with them and live in freedom. In the end his honor won out. He would ignore his childish desires in order to protect those he cared about. He _had_ to leave Earth. And the sooner the better.

He strengthened his weakening resolve as he took to the air to head back to West City. It would be best for everyone if he returned to Frieza and took up the burden of a life of slavery. It was the only way he could protect the Briefs, his saiyan comrades, and grow stronger through battles to finally be able to avenge his fallen race. It was far from ideal, but it was his only choice. Someday, perhaps, he would be free. But until then, he had the responsibility of serving Frieza in unwilling obedience.

'I will get stronger. I will have my revenge. And I will gain my freedom. But not yet. Until then, I only have to survive. It will be miserable. I will want to die every day of my life, but I will not. I will go on until I can break free of my bondage.'

It was the same speech he recited to himself every time he wanted to give up. It hardly ever helped anymore, but it was better than nothing. It helped steel his resolve and thicken his skin when he had to endure senseless beatings at the hands of his master. It was his last defense against lapsing into insanity.

He flew over West City, watching with mild amusement as the pitiful humans went about their daily lives. Were they so pitiful? At least they weren't someone's slaves. In a small way he envied them. He would never give up his power to be one of them, but he wished he could live like them. He dismissed that thought, tired of his own whimsical foolishness.

"Let go of my baby!"

Vegeta slowed in his flight back to Capsule Corporation and looked down again. He saw a small area with dense foliage surrounding a lake. He recognized it as the park where the blue-haired girl had dragged him once. He couldn't figure out what caught his attention. He never paid much attention to it before when he flew over it.

"Mom! Help!"

His eyebrow raised. It must have been the humans screaming down below. How someone's voice was shrill enough to reach him so high was beyond him. Must be some real loudmouths. He shrugged and readied himself to continue in his flight. He wasn't a hero; it wasn't his job to save some stupid humans from the trouble they got themselves into.

"Bulma!"

He paused. Was that…? He looked down again, but he couldn't see anyone below. The scuffle must have been taking place somewhere in the forest out of sight.

'I was imagining things,' he concluded when he didn't hear any more screams. Flaring his ki, he resumed his flight toward the compound, but the nagging thought that he should go back wouldn't relent. Both the park and the compound were in view when he stopped again and looked over his shoulder. Would it hurt to go back and confirm his thoughts? It wasn't anything. But what if it was?

"Why does it matter anyway?" he asked aloud.

'Because you care about them,' his inner voice answered.

"I shouldn't."

'But you do.'

"Damn it all." Vegeta spun around and headed to the park to find out what was going on. Barely a minute had passed since he heard the last scream. The girl's name. He dropped down into the trees and landed on a low branch to survey the area. He didn't see anyone around. He had no idea where exactly the screams had originated from, so he jumped to a nearby branch and started swinging and leaping through the trees along the dirt path that cut through the forest.

When he heard another ear-piercing scream up ahead he quickened his pace. That was the unmistakable screech of the blue-haired girl. There was no denying it; she was in trouble and she was helpless to save herself. Her idiot mother was equally useless.

"Would you stop struggling you crazy bitch?" he heard a deep voice shout. There was the sound of someone getting backhanded and a muffled cry of pain.

"Mom!"

Vegeta could now see what was going on. There was one man holding the girl's arms behind her back and dragging her away from the trail while another man was standing over the fallen form of Mrs. Brief. She was, perhaps fortunately, unconscious. From what he could tell, they put up quite a fight before they reached this point in the action.

"Come on! We've got to get these two away from here before someone catches us. You know the boss won't be happy if we mess this up!" the man holding Bulma barked at the other who was now picking Mrs. Brief up.

Vegeta sprang from one branch to another, catching it with his tail and letting his momentum swing him around once before launching himself onto the trail in front of the two men. He landed in a crouch and growled deep in his chest when he saw the female Briefs being manhandled.

"Let them go," he snarled.

"Get out of the way, kid," the man with Bulma ordered, his hand moving to the gun at his hip.

"Vegeta be careful!" Bulma cried out before the man slapped his free hand over her mouth to silence her.

Vegeta's tail bristled and uncoiled from his waist and lashed behind him. Fires of raw fury burned in his obsidian eyes and his lips curled in a snarl, revealing his long canines. He looked more like a feral animal than a child. His growl deepened and grew in volume.

"Release them at once or I _will_ kill you," he hissed.

The men took a few hesitant steps backward. Though he was obviously young and small, it was unnerving how he seemed to radiate power and hatred in waves. Not only that, but he sounded sincere in his threat. Even without weapons, he didn't look like a pushover if they had to contend with him.

The second man unceremoniously dropped Mrs. Brief on the ground and pulled his gun out of its holster. "Kid, you can't scare us. Get out of the way and we'll let you live."

Instead of getting him to back down, they were rewarded with the wild boy's bark of humorless – if not insane – laughter. The first man gulped and took another step back, his hand now firmly grasping his gun.

Bulma resumed her struggling when she saw what was about to happen. The creeps who were trying to abduct her and her mother would have no qualms about shooting a boy if he were in their way. Vegeta didn't look ready to back down. She had to admit he looked horrific the way he was glaring at the men, and she was glad that for a change his glare wasn't directed at her. She knew he was strong. Not just for his age, but for anyone. But that didn't mean he could take a bullet and not be killed. She had to get free and help him if she could.

"You stupid brat!" the man shouted before clobbering her in the side of the head and knocking her out.

Vegeta roared as he pounced on the man and tore a hole in his chest before he fell to the ground. He leaped off the dying man to the other one who was raising his gun to aim at him. He heard the gun fire before he struck the man to the ground and felt a sharp pain in his shoulder, but he ignored it. Straddling the man's chest, he took his head in his hands and quickly jerked it to the side, easily snapping the man's neck.

"Fools," he growled as he stood up and dusted himself off. He winced in pain and looked down to see a trickle of blood freely flowing down his chest from the gunshot in his shoulder. It wouldn't be deadly, but it wasn't enjoyable. Had he had a ki barrier around himself the bullet probably wouldn't have been able to pierce his skin, but at the time he wasn't thinking about protecting himself. All he could think about was saving the girl and the woman.

He stepped over the body of the man who had Bulma and picked the girl up gently and held her under one arm. He went back over to Mrs. Brief and picked her up with his free arm and slung her body over his good shoulder. It would be awkward carrying both of them back to the compound, but he could manage. He spat on the ground between the two corpses and took off toward Capsule Corporation with the unconscious females.

Vegeta landed in the front yard of the compound and carried his charges inside. He took them to the living room, which was the closest room where he could lay them down. He laid Mrs. Brief on the couch and Bulma on the loveseat. They weren't seriously injured, so he didn't see the need to take them to the infirmary. He growled again when he saw a bruise forming on Mrs. Brief's cheek. Pathetic, weak woman. Seeing her hurt infuriated him all over again. He turned away from her and felt his ki jump when he saw a growing lump on the girl's head where she had been hit.

Forgetting his own injury, he went to the kitchen and found two icepacks in the freezer and took them back to the living room. He put one on the girl's head and held the other to the woman's cheek to ease the swelling.

'Stupid, helpless humans. It's ridiculous how easily they're hurt.'

His head swam with dizziness after a few minutes, forcing him to sit down on the floor next to the couch. He took a deep breath and looked down at his shoulder again. It was still bleeding profusely. No wonder he felt dizzy. He shook his head to try to clear his mind, but that only made the dizziness worse and he blacked out.

He heard the faint murmurings of someone near him, but he couldn't make out the words. They all seemed to blur together and his mind was clouded, making all his senses dull. He cracked his eyes open but closed them again when he was assaulted with bright fluorescent lights overhead. He groaned when a stabbing pain erupted in his shoulder.

"He's awake!" Mrs. Brief squealed when she heard Vegeta's groan. She crossed the room in a flash and stroked the boy's flame of upswept hair gently. She was followed by her daughter, husband, and their family doctor. "Vegeta, honey, how do you feel?"

Vegeta tried opening his eyes again, blinking a few times to clear the blurriness as the faces of the Briefs and a stranger came into focus. He groaned again and moved to sit up but the blonde woman held him down firmly. "What happened?" he rasped.

"You were shot," Dr. Brief told him. "I found you in the living room and brought you to the infirmary. We had to remove a bullet from your shoulder and bandage you up."

"The hell's a bullet?" Vegeta slurred.

"This is the bullet," the medical doctor answered, holding up a tiny piece of metal.

"Who're you?"

"This is Dr. Nienstedt, our family doctor," Dr. Brief answered. "It's ok, you can trust him."

Vegeta nodded once. If they said he was trustworthy he would take their word for it for now.

"Oh, Vegeta, I was so worried about you when I saw what happened," Mrs. Brief said, drawing him into a tight embrace that he was unable to fight against. "Bulma told me that you came to help us and I just feel so horrible that you were pulled into something like that. I'm so glad you're going to be alright. Oh, this is all my fault!"

"Not your fault," Vegeta mumbled. "Those lowlifes' fault."

As soon as Mrs. Brief released him from her embrace he found himself in a tight hug from the blue-haired girl. He sighed and waited for her to let him go, not having the energy to push her away. "Thank you for saving us, Veggie," she whispered so only he could hear.

"Hn."

"I think we should let him rest," Dr. Brief said, ushering his wife and daughter out of the small room. He gestured for Dr. Nienstedt to go with them and closed the door behind him. Then he turned and went back to the side of the bed where Vegeta was lying.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow, looking at him expectantly. He looked more serious than usual. Actually, he had an expression of deep consternation.

"Would you mind telling me exactly what happened?" Dr. Brief asked. It sounded more like an order.

Vegeta swallowed and stared up at the ceiling. "I was coming back to the compound when I heard someone screaming in the park. I went to investigate and saw two scumbags trying to kidnap the woman and the girl." He swallowed again when he felt bile rising in his throat at the thought of those cretins getting their dirty hands on his new family. "They were putting up a decent fight, but the men were overpowering them. They knocked both of them out and then I fought them. They weren't too hard to defeat. Then I brought the females back to the compound."

Dr. Brief nodded as Vegeta recounted his tale. "I called the police to report what happened when my wife told me about it. They went to the park and found the men you 'defeated.' They were dead."

"Yes."

"You killed them."

"Yes."

Dr. Brief's knees buckled. He collapsed into the chair next to the saiyan's bed and ran his hand through his graying lavender hair. He didn't want to believe it. How could a boy so young be capable of murder?

"You're upset with me for killing them?" Vegeta asked.

"Vegeta, how could you possibly think it's acceptable to take another person's life?"

"Would you rather me have let them kidnap your family?"

"If you were strong enough to kill them you could have just as easily knocked them out and gotten the police to arrest them!" Dr. Brief shouted.

Vegeta had never seen him angry before. He was stunned into silence. When a heavy silence fell he knew he was supposed to respond somehow, but what was he supposed to say? He did what he thought was right. He was defending his family – his pack – from those bastards.

After the seconds turned into minutes Vegeta finally found his voice again. "Where I come from, it is expected of a man of honor to seek justice by killing the unrighteous."

"I don't know where you're from," Dr. Brief said darkly, "but we don't do that here."

"Would you punish me, then, for protecting them?"

Dr. Brief sighed and shook his head slowly. "No, son. No, I won't punish you. I do not condone your methods. I'm horrified that you killed those men. But I won't punish you for saving my wife and daughter. This is going to be a mess to clean up, but I can do it. But Vegeta, you have to understand that you can _never_ kill anyone."

"I won't," Vegeta said, then added mentally, 'if they don't deserve it.'

"Thank you for rescuing them," Dr. Brief said as he stood to leave, "but if anything like this ever happens again, don't take it into your own hands. Leave it to the law enforcement."

Vegeta nodded in feigned understanding and closed his eyes. He wouldn't tell the old man that if anything like that ever happened again he wouldn't hesitate to kill again. Maybe it wasn't customary on the mudball to kill the scum, but he would do it if he had reason to. He wasn't human. He was a saiyan. And if someone attacked his pack, he would do everything in his power to defend them.

His pack. That's what the Briefs were to him now. The closest unit saiyans formed with non-family members. They included immediate family, yes, but they became a larger family through the pack bond. And he would die to protect them.

_A/N: Will Vegeta get his space pod up and running soon? Will he really leave Earth? I know, but you don't, so you'll have to keep reading. So I've noticed that in my stories Bulma always manages to get into trouble like this and Vegeta comes to the rescue. But, then, I also think Bulma seems to attract trouble in the canon, so it's all good. Anyway, I've reached a little bit of writer's block. Hopefully that passes soon so I can get on with writing more chapters for this and my other stories. Maybe you should review. Reviews always help writer's block._


	15. Gone

Gone

It was two days before Vegeta was allowed out of bed. The gunshot wound in his shoulder was mostly healed, much to the doctor's astonishment, but he wasn't at all surprised by his quick healing. It was a relatively small wound that his saiyan physiology could easily handle. During those two days that he was bedridden, Bulma had spent nearly every waking hour with him, pestering him with questions, boring him with pointless stories, and playing ridiculous games with him to keep him entertained. He would have preferred solitude, but there was little he could do to chase her off when he was stuck in bed.

Somehow Dr. Brief managed to keep the story out of the news and covered it up so no one – including his wife and daughter – knew what really happened at West City Park. They just figured the criminals were arrested and sent to prison and that was that. They never would have guessed that their young houseguest murdered them. It was better, in Dr. Brief's opinion, that they didn't know the truth of the matter. He kept it to himself and ordered Vegeta to do the same.

His attitude toward the boy changed drastically after learning he was a murderer. He found it hard to trust someone who was able to kill ruthlessly and without any remorse. Vegeta considered his actions justice, but he saw it as murder. It was hard to reconcile his previous feelings toward the boy and the knowledge he had about him. He cared about Vegeta as a son, but he couldn't condone what he had done. Would he do it again? Had he done it before?

Vegeta was privy to Dr. Brief's change in feelings toward him. He was ashamed of himself when he realized he was actually hurt by the man's aversion to his actions. He knew it went along with having an attachment to someone, this concern about his opinion. Still, he _wasn't_ ashamed of what he had done and so he continued to hurt because he wanted Dr. Brief to accept what he had done. Maybe even applaud it. But that wasn't going to happen. There was a tension between them now, and it made Vegeta very uncomfortable. Would he be thrown out as soon as he was healed completely?

The saiyan walked into the indoor garden and crinkled his nose when he smelled the foul odor of the old man's burning cigarette. He was definitely there. Following the stench, Vegeta soon found Dr. Brief crouching down petting a cat that was rubbing against his leg.

"Hello, Vegeta," Dr. Brief said without turning.

Vegeta dipped his head in greeting even though he wasn't sure if Dr. Brief could see him. He took a few cautious steps closer and stopped again. He felt awkward. He wanted to turn tail and run out of the garden. He swallowed hard. "Are you going to make me leave?"

Dr. Brief stood up and flicked his burnt out cigarette into the grass. "I would be lying if I told you I hadn't considered it."

Vegeta cringed, not wanting to hear more. It was as he suspected. He had become a monster in the old man's eyes. He was a killer. A bloodthirsty beast. Maybe that's all he was ever going to be. It didn't matter where he went or why he killed, it would never be right. He felt tears stinging his eyes and fought them back. He would not cry. Frieza couldn't make him cry and neither could this foolish human.

"But I couldn't do that. I can't hold what you were taught against you," Dr. Brief continued. But no one heard him. Vegeta was already gone.

The young saiyan ran upstairs to his guestroom and tore his clothes off. He pulled on his old bodysuit, boots, gloves, and armor and grabbed his scouter from the desk. He threw his ID card on the bed and went out to his balcony. He looked back once and shook his head. He wasn't wanted here. He would never be wanted anywhere. He clenched his fists at his sides and leaped into the air and sped away from the compound back to his space pod. It was all he had left.

Dr. Brief went after the boy when he noticed his absence and went upstairs when he heard a loud commotion in the guestroom. Figuring it was Vegeta throwing a tantrum of sorts, he made his way upstairs and opened the door. Judging by the sounds he heard coming from within, he expected to find a disaster inside, but he found the room to be neat and orderly as usual. He walked inside, but he didn't see Vegeta anywhere. What caught his attention was a small white rectangle on the bed. He walked over to it and saw that it was Vegeta's identification. He picked it up and turned it over in his hand.

"Oh, dear."

He looked up and saw that the balcony doors were wide open. No one was on the balcony. The room was completely deserted. He walked out to the balcony, but he still had no idea where the boy had gone. He leaned against the rail and put Vegeta's ID card in his pocket. He didn't know how, but Vegeta was gone. And he had a feeling he wouldn't be coming back.

"What have I done?"

The scientist turned and went back inside, closing the balcony doors behind him. He somehow had to break the news to his wife and daughter that their houseguest had abruptly left. He didn't know how to tell them that he had inadvertently made the boy feel unwelcome. As disgusted as he was that Vegeta killed, he still cared about him. He could never imagine turning him out because of what he had done. But Vegeta left on his own accord and, if the abandoned ID card was any indication, had no intention of coming back to live at Capsule Corporation.

Vegeta landed next to his space pod and opened the hatch. He went inside and curled up in the seat. His shoulder, which wasn't all the way healed, was throbbing with pain from his recent exertion, but he ignored the pain. He would gladly take that pain and multiply it by a thousand if only to distract himself from the emotional anguish he was experiencing. Attachments. There was a reason he learned early not to have any. The last attachments he ever had were to his mother and father, and they were both taken away from him when he was a small child. He learned then that it was safer not to care about anyone else. He learned that the only person in the universe he should ever care about was himself. Despite the lessons learned he foolishly became attached to those humans and now he was hurting because of it. He was filled with self-loathing for his own stupidity. He never should have accepted the girl's invitation to stay with them. Never should have allowed himself to interact with them, to think they weren't so bad. He released a shaky breath and buried his face in the seat of his space pod. He could never go back to Capsule Corporation.

"What do you mean he left?" Mrs. Brief demanded of her husband.

He waved his hands in the air defensively. "Honey, now calm down. Vegeta left, but we can find him and bring him back."

Mrs. Brief had a rare scowl on her face. It was actually intimidating. She put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot impatiently. "I want to know why he left!"

"Well, I, uh…" Dr. Brief stammered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "You see, he asked if I was going to make him leave…"

"Why would he ask something like that?" Mrs. Brief cut her husband off.

Dr. Brief cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his lab coat pockets. "Because of what happened a couple days ago."

Mrs. Brief's hands clenched into fists. "You mean when he _saved_ Bulma and me from those creeps?"

"Yes… I mean…the problem was with his methods…"

"Why does it matter _how_ he did it?" Mrs. Brief screamed. "The point is he saved us and now he's gone because you made him feel unwelcome here!"

"Now, dear, please try to calm down –"

"I can't believe this!" Mrs. Brief screeched, throwing her hands up in the air. "You want me to calm down when that poor boy is somewhere out in that city without a home! You should be ashamed of yourself! Where's Bulma? We're going to go find him and bring him home."

Over the years Mrs. Brief had learned to put up with a lot of her husband's faults. He was eccentric, absent-minded, and a bit of a pervert. She could stand all of that about him. But the one thing she would _not_ tolerate was a breach in hospitality. He had crossed the line this time and she wasn't going to forgive him until Vegeta was back, safe and sound.

Dr. Brief sighed and nodded. He knew he couldn't leave Vegeta out there on his own any more than his wife could. He already missed the boy and the guilt he felt was growing by the minute. It certainly didn't help when his normally bright and cheerful wife was absolutely furious with him. "Yes, dear," he conceded as he went to find his daughter. No doubt she would scream his ears off as bad as his wife already had.

Vegeta forced himself to calm his tumultuous thoughts and sank into a meditative state. There, maybe, he could find some peace. He felt none in the outside world anymore. It was worse than when he was fighting and purging planets or being beaten by the lizard. The pain he felt was more real than any physical suffering he had ever endured. It wasn't as bad, but close, to the pain he felt when he learned that his planet, his people, his kingdom, and his parents were all gone. Ripped away from him for the lizard's own twisted amusement.

_"Prince Vegeta."_

_ Raditz and Nappa knelt down in front of him when he turned to see who had come into the lizard's throne room after returning from his last solo purge mission. His jaw dropped when he saw that it was two saiyans. But Frieza told him they were all killed when an asteroid struck his home planet! How was it possible?_

_ "Lord Frieza?" he choked out, turning again to see only cruel mirth dancing in the freak's beady red eyes._

_ Frieza shrugged nonchalantly and said, "I guess you monkeys are more like roaches than I thought. These two somehow managed to escape the destruction of your planet. They're your _subjects_, so I suppose I'll allow you to keep them."_

_ 'These are the only two left besides me?' Vegeta thought forlornly as he looked back at the two older saiyans. He recognized Nappa as the general of the saiyan army. The other saiyan, a teenager with long hair, he did not know. Probably a piece of third-class trash._

_ "And remember, Vegeta," Frieza said with a sly smile creeping across his hideous face, "If you fail to keep these two in line, I will have to punish you."_

_ Vegeta's face paled. He glanced over his shoulder at the saiyans and gulped. They didn't look very bright. They would, no doubt, be getting into a lot of trouble, and it would all be on his head. He sighed in defeat. They were his responsibility now. The last of his race. The pain of loss had not yet dulled, making him even less interested in his new companions than he would have been otherwise. All he could feel was the emptiness inside where his proud race used to be._

_ "Thank you, Lord Frieza," he ground out though he felt no gratitude. Only humiliation. And grief. It was the last time he would ever allow himself to feel pain over the loss of another's life._

_ "That's a good monkey," Frieza jeered as he coiled his tail around the young prince's throat. Vegeta clawed at the cold appendage, but it only tightened until he was left gasping for air. He was raised into the air and whipped into the wall, instantly knocked unconscious._

Vegeta gasped and shot up in his seat as, in his memory, his body impacted against the wall of his master's throne room. He rubbed his temples and rested his elbows on his knees with his head in his hands. "Damn memories."

He released a breath he didn't realize he had been holding and sat back in the seat. Always alone. Attachments were dangerous. He promised himself that he would never care for another being again in his life when his people were slaughtered. He went back on that promise when he came to this stupid mudball, when he allowed himself to grow attached to the Briefs. And why? Because they made him feel like he belonged, like he was accepted. It was what he craved, deep inside, more than anything, even revenge. He just never allowed himself to recognize that fact. He denied it until he convinced himself it wasn't true.

"I'm acting like a weakling," he chided himself. "It does not matter to me that they don't want me. It does not matter that I'm on my own again. This is how it always should have been. Damn them, damn them all! I don't care about them, I don't! I hope the lizard destroys this whole planet and they go to hell."

Inside, his heart ached more with every word he spoke against the Briefs. His pack.

"I didn't even do anything wrong," he grumbled. "_Excuse me_ for protecting the weaklings." He rolled his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. He could try to stay mad at them, he could try to feel indignant over the old man's negative attitude, but he was only trying to cover the hurt he felt. It was useless. He couldn't substitute one feeling for another. Not in this case. He wanted to go back and seek their forgiveness rather than hate them.

He took his scouter off and turned it over in his hand. At least there would be no more distractions so he could get his space pod repaired and be on his way sooner than anticipated. Maybe. It would be considerably harder to gather the materials he would need now. Fortunately he still had the tools Dr. Brief lent him. At least he was saved from having to hunt those down when he needed them.

There was nothing holding him back now. No petty attachments. What surprised him was that the ties were cut from the other end. But now he wouldn't have the trouble of convincing himself to leave when the time came for him to vacate the planet. He had no temporary home anymore. No surrogate family. No nothing. Just like when he arrived, all he had was his space pod and the clothes on his back.

"What do you mean he left?" Bulma shouted when her father came into her room to tell her they were going out to search for their now missing houseguest.

Dr. Brief was sure he was experiencing déjà vu. He sighed in resignation as his ears were again assaulted with the high-pitched screaming of a furious female Brief. "He asked me if I wanted him to leave and I merely told him I _considered_ it. He didn't let me finish before he ran out."

Bulma scowled at her father. "And _why_ would you have ever wanted him to leave? I thought you cared about him!"

"I do care about him, Bulma," Dr. Brief reassured her.

"Then why tell him you thought about making him leave? That doesn't make sense!"

"I didn't agree with his method of saving you and your mother at the park. I was afraid I couldn't trust him and that he might be a bad influence on you."

"What did he do that was so wrong?" Bulma demanded, putting her hands on her hips. She was the spitting image of her angry mother.

As he always did when he was nervous, Dr. Brief pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and put one in his mouth without lighting it. He shoved his hands back in his pockets and shrugged helplessly. "I don't think I should tell you, dear."

Bulma quirked an eyebrow, silently demanding he answer her question better than that. If what he had done was bad enough to make her usually overly generous father consider kicking him out on the street, it must have been awfully bad. Now she was curious more than anything to know what Vegeta did. "It's not like he killed them," she grumbled.

Dr. Brief coughed and turned away so she couldn't see that she hit the nail on the head. He rubbed the back of his neck and refused to make eye contact with her for a while. "We need to go find him, dear. Your mother is waiting."

"Oh, now you're all about having him stay with us," she remarked snidely as she stormed out of her room and went downstairs to find her mother.

"I never really wanted him to leave," Dr. Brief told the empty room. But there was no convincing his family of that when they were throwing a fit over Vegeta's disappearance. He was ready to get off the guilt trip and go find the boy already.

Bulma found her mother standing by the front door with the hovercar capsule in her hand. She was still frowning, an expression so rarely seen on her face it almost scared Bulma even though she knew she wasn't the reason behind her mother's ire. Together they walked outside to the driveway and got into the car before Dr. Brief could catch up with them. Bulma sat in the passenger seat with Mrs. Brief driving, so Dr. Brief was forced to sit in the backseat. He was still closing his door when his angry wife pulled out of the driveway and headed into the city to look for the boy who had become like a son to her.

Vegeta didn't venture out of his space pod until his stomach started rumbling. It had been a long time since he ate. He left before lunch and the sun was already resting low on the horizon. He didn't feel like hunting, but he was hungry. It was either endure the sharp pangs of hunger or crawl out into the wilderness and find some game. In the end, his saiyan metabolism won out and he crept through the field in search of some kind of wild animal that would satisfy his enormous appetite.

It wasn't long before he caught the scent of a deer and her fawn. He crept through the tall grass until they were in sight and crouched into a position to pounce once they drew closer. When they got close enough he shot through the air and tackled the fawn to the ground, breaking its neck before it could even make a sound. The doe ran away, leaving Vegeta to eat the tender flesh of the young deer.

The saiyan quickly devoured the fawn and blasted the inedible remains into oblivion to discourage scavengers from coming to search for food. He stood up and stretched his arms over his head. It was actually somewhat satisfying having raw meat for a change. He was a huge fan of Mrs. Brief's cooking, but a full-blooded saiyan needed the supplement of bloody, raw meat in his diet once in a while to keep him strong.

'This is probably all I'll be eating for the remainder of my stay on this stupid planet. I shouldn't complain. At least there's something to eat here. More than what I can say about Frieza's ship when he decides to starve me as punishment for some failure or other.'

Vegeta went back to his space pod and ran his hand over the smooth surface. If he could get it working again he could forget his stay on Earth and refocus on his need to grow stronger and eventually overthrow Frieza as ruler of the universe. 'Am I getting stronger here? The gravity is so low and I don't have anyone challenging to fight. I've spent more time recently training the girl than myself. Not that I have to worry about that anymore, but still. Have I been wasting my time? I should be using this opportunity to grow in power out from under the watchful eye of the lizard.'

He shrugged, not really caring if he grew stronger or not. What was the point? He would never be strong enough. He would never be free. He would always be hated by everyone he met once they learned what he was. A killer. A monster. The Briefs were proof enough of that. He thought they considered him one of their own, but now there he was, living alone. He felt bitterness sweeping through his mind again and shook his head to rid himself of it. There was no point pining over a life he could never have. A life that was stolen from him forever when he was eight years old. The life of a free man. It was nothing more than wishful thinking for him. Foolish thoughts he wasn't in the mood to entertain anymore.

"Honey, I don't think we're going to find him tonight," Dr. Brief said from the backseat. It was getting late and there were few people walking the streets of West City anymore. Everyone else had the sense to turn in and wait for tomorrow to do whatever needed to be done. They had been driving around the city for hours and had yet to see the flame-haired boy. They spent most of the time in the area where Bulma first encountered him. They even got out of the car and walked through the alleys, but he was nowhere to be found. Either he was hiding well from them or he wasn't in that part of the city.

Bulma shook her head defiantly. "We can't give up, Dad. He's got to be around somewhere, we just haven't seen him yet."

"We're not giving up for good, dear," Dr. Brief reasoned, "But I think our chances of finding him tonight are slim. He's probably already found a place to stay for the night, so we aren't going to see him walking down the street. We'll try again tomorrow."

Mrs. Brief frowned but nodded. She had to agree with her husband. The boy had enough sense to find some kind of shelter before it got too late. He _had_ lived on the streets before he ever came to live at Capsule Corporation, after all. Reluctantly, she turned down the street that would take them back to the compound. She dared to hope that maybe Vegeta had gone back home while they were out and was there waiting for them.

But Vegeta wasn't at Capsule Corporation. The compound was empty, all the employees having gone home hours ago. No one was there besides the small family. Their home never felt so empty before.

"I can't believe he's gone," Bulma murmured as she turned the hall light on, illuminating the quiet compound.

Mrs. Brief knelt down in front of her daughter and pulled her into a hug to comfort her. "It's alright, honey. Don't worry about him, he's a tough little guy and he can take care of himself tonight. We'll find him tomorrow and bring him home where he belongs."

Bulma sniffled and wrapped her arms around her mother's neck. A mother's love was the only thing that could ward off the forlornness of losing her only friend. "You promise we'll look for him until we find him?"

"Of course, honey," Mrs. Brief cooed, "He's a part of the family. We wouldn't leave him out there all alone."

The blue-haired girl nodded and pulled herself free of her mother's tight embrace. She tried to force a smile, ignoring the tears forming in her eyes. "Alright. I'm going to go to bed so I can get up early in the morning and we can go find him."

"Good idea, sweetie."

"Goodnight, Mom." She hugged her mother once more before going upstairs to her room.

Mrs. Brief stood up and sighed. She hoped with all her heart that they would find Vegeta the next day. She could hardly stand the thought of him being somewhere alone in the city. It didn't matter that he knew how to get by on his own, he belonged with them at Capsule Corporation in his nice, warm bed.

"Come on, dear," Dr. Brief said, putting his hand on his wife's back and guiding her to the stairs. "We should get some rest too. We'll find him, don't worry."

"We'll find him, don't worry." It was like a mantra that each member of the Briefs family kept repeating over the next few days as they searched for their young houseguest. Every morning they woke up early and drove into the city and walked the streets in hopes of finding Vegeta, but he never appeared. They wouldn't return home until night when it was too dark to search anymore and repeated the routine the next day.

They contacted the police department and reported Vegeta as missing, but they never heard any reports of him being found. He was like a ghost in his disappearance. It was as if he fell off the face of the earth. Every day it was harder to give up and go back home for the night to get some sleep before starting out in the morning again. Every day they were more desperate in their search for their adopted family member. Dr. Brief's guilt worsened and Bulma and Mrs. Brief's anger with him grew. Vegeta's absence was tearing their family apart with worry.

"You're sure this is where you first saw him?" Mrs. Brief asked her daughter as they looked around the deserted alleyway.

"Yeah, this is the place."

Mrs. Brief pulled her handkerchief out of her purse and dabbed at the tears in her eyes. She was worried sick about the poor boy. "Oh I hope he's alright," she whimpered as she turned and sadly walked back to their car.

Dr. Brief walked alongside her and patted her back comfortingly. There was little he could say to cheer his wife up anymore. It was clear they were all losing hope of finding the boy. For all they knew he left the city entirely and they would never see him again.

Vegeta perched on top of his space pod and gazed up at the gray, cloudy sky. The scent of rain was thick in the air and he knew it wouldn't be long before a downpour started. He inhaled the scent deeply and released his breath slowly. It had been five days since he left Capsule Corporation and he was still hurting as badly as ever. He wanted to see the crazy blonde woman, the absent-minded scientist, and the obnoxious blue-haired girl again. He wanted to taste the woman's delicious blueberry pancakes and listen to the girl prattling on about all the games she liked to play. He took it all for granted when he was with them, but now he missed it.

"I'm a fool," he told himself. He'd said it at least a hundred times already that day.

The repairs came to a halt on his space pod as he ran out of the materials he needed. There was little he could do until he obtained some. The only way to do that was to return to the city. He might not be willing to go back to Capsule Corporation, but there had to be _somewhere_ he could find what he needed. He just had to go back and look. Now that he had the local language mastered it would be easier for him to communicate and locate a store that sold what he needed for his pod. He didn't have any money, but he wasn't necessarily above stealing if it meant reaching his goals.

His tail flicked from side to side behind him as he considered whether or not to return to West City that afternoon. He wouldn't stay there. As soon as he got some more parts for his pod he would return to it and stay there for the night. No sense staying close to the objects of his foolish attachments. He was convinced that if he distanced himself from them the pain would go away faster.

'I'll train for an hour. Then I'll go back and see what I can find. I can't keep putting this off no matter how much I want to avoid the city. I could go to a different city.' He shook his head. 'Stop being an idiot. It's just a city where those disgusting humans live. It's not like it matters to me. Why go out of my way to avoid them? It isn't like I'll see them.'

His mind made up, Vegeta hopped off his space pod and lowered himself into the starting position of his kata. He took a deep breath and started his mock fight, going through the motions while his mind wandered elsewhere. He leaped through the field, twisted through the air, flew into the air, dodged, kicked, punched, ducked, and whirled around faster than the eye could see.

He was halfway through his kata when a loud clap of thunder followed a flash of lightning and heavy rain started pouring down on the field. He allowed a small smile to grace his lips when he felt the cool water beating down on him. He spun around in a leg sweep, drops of water flying out in a spiral around him from his wet hair. He rose to his feet and jumped over an imaginary kick and landed on his hands before pushing himself back into the air, executing a tight flip and landing on his feet in a low crouch with the palms of his hands facing where his opponent would be, ready to fire a blast of ki.

His tail unwound from his waist and twitched slowly behind him as he stood up and regained his breath. He tilted his head back, allowing the pouring rain to fall on his face and in his open mouth. He didn't mind getting drenched. He actually enjoyed it. Another loud clap of thunder sounded through the air and lightning danced through the dark clouds, lighting up the otherwise dark sky. He always thought thunderstorms were nature's expression of power. They made him feel stronger. During a storm he could lose himself, pretending he was as uncontrollable as the gusting winds, as powerful as the blinding lightning, as fearsome as the cracking thunder, and as free as the pouring rain. And when the storm was over, he would wake from his daydream and remember he was nothing more than the slave of a tyrant. He sighed.

"Someday," he whispered. He stood motionless in the rain, losing himself in the rare sense of liberty.

_A/N: Well, here it is, another chapter. I finished writing chapter 31 today, so I figured I could go ahead and update. Thank you so much for all the reviews! I greatly appreciate every one of them. I will take some of the ideas into account as I write and revise future chapters. Have I ever mentioned how much I love writing this story? It's a load of fun. I hope you're all enjoying reading as much as I am writing. Keep reviewing!_


	16. Found

Found

Another week passed with Vegeta living in his space pod at night and traveling into the city during the day to scrounge around for the parts needed to repair his pod. It was slow going without access to Dr. Brief's laboratory, but he was able to find many of the parts needed in electronics stores. The owners of the stores were never happy with him when they learned that he didn't have any money before he walked out with whatever device they were trying to sell him. He never returned to the same store twice for obvious reasons.

He was running down the street, clutching the motherboard of an old computer to his chest with the angry owner of a used electronics store chasing him. He snickered to himself as he rounded a corner and came to a screeching halt when he saw the blonde woman and the blue-haired girl walking down the sidewalk toward him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the red-faced man still chasing him despite being out of breath and ready to have a heart attack. He ducked when the man reached him and attempted to grab him. Instead of catching the young thief, the store owner tripped over him and fell face first on the unforgiving concrete sidewalk.

Vegeta immediately dashed back in the same direction he had just come from, not caring in the least who he bowled over in his haste to get away before the Briefs could spot him. He rounded the corner of an alley and jumped onto a fire escape and climbed the stairs until he reached the top floor, then leaped onto the roof. He crawled to the edge and looked down to see if anyone was still following him. He saw the store owner, now sporting a bloody nose, looking up and down the street for him, but the blonde woman and the blue-haired girl weren't there. He sighed with relief and sat back on the roof. That was too close for comfort. It wasn't as if they could force him to go back to the compound with him even if they found him. As if they would want him to… but still, he didn't want the temptation.

"Did that look like Vegeta to you?" Bulma asked her mother after a black flame of hair disappeared behind the building at the corner they were approaching.

Mrs. Brief looked down at her daughter. "What? I didn't see anyone."

Bulma frowned and shrugged. She was probably imagining things. It had been two weeks since she last saw their surly houseguest. Her mind was bound to start playing tricks on her as she continued looking for him. She was a little upset with her father for not coming with them to look for him every day anymore. President of a rapidly growing global enterprise or not, it was his fault Vegeta left in the first place, so he should be right there with him walking the streets of the city trying to find the lost boy.

"Never mind."

Vegeta stood up and kicked off into the air and headed back to his space pod with his loot. He didn't need the whole thing, but it had most of the parts he needed to finish repairing the main controls of his pod. Several minutes later he touched down next to his space pod and crawled inside and pulled the control board open. He put his scouter on and pushed the button to send a transmission through to the base planet. At the rate he was going it wouldn't be too much longer before his pod was completely finished and he could hopefully make it to the nearest base and get a whole new pod. He had already been on Earth for five months, it was time to get moving.

"Do you think we're ever going to find him?" Bulma asked as she and her mother sat down in a restaurant to eat lunch.

Mrs. Brief forced a smile and nodded. "Of course we will, honey. Don't give up." She didn't want to admit she was wondering the same thing as her daughter. She never thought it would be two weeks with still no signs of the flame-haired boy. He stood out in a crowd, how hard could it possibly be to find him? They still hadn't heard from the police, so as far as they knew he was still out there somewhere and highly capable of keeping himself hidden.

Actually, the police had _heard_ about Vegeta several times over the past weeks. They kept getting reports of a boy robbing stores, and the descriptions given perfectly matched those provided by the Briefs of the missing boy they were searching for. Not wanting to cause any distress, the police department kept quiet about all the thefts. They were on the look-out for the boy in question, but they were having a difficult time finding any traces. The robberies happened randomly throughout the city with no obvious pattern aside from them all happening at electronics stores. If they had enough cops to spare, they might have posted one at every store that sold electronics in the city to keep a watch out for the boy, but they didn't so they couldn't.

The Briefs didn't know that though. All they knew was that Vegeta was still missing after two weeks and they were more worried than ever. None of them spoke about their fading hope. They were all stubbornly determined not to give up until he was found. They didn't care how long it took, Vegeta was going to come home to Capsule Corporation.

"You think he's ok?" Bulma asked.

Mrs. Brief sighed and rested her chin on her upturned palm. "I think so, honey."

Bulma nodded, only partially reassured. She didn't care that he was homeless before she brought him to stay at Capsule Corporation. He was just a kid. He didn't belong on the street. He had a home now, and a family who cared about him. Why did he have to leave? She missed him so much it hurt. It was harder to sleep every night because of her concern for him. Then she dragged herself out of bed early every morning to begin her daily search for him. She was exhausted but refused to rest until he was found.

"Here you go," the waitress said cheerfully as she set their plates of food down in front of them. "Can I get you anything else?"

Bulma and Mrs. Brief both shook their heads no, so the waitress left them to eat. Bulma poked at her food with her fork, but she didn't eat. She didn't have much of an appetite after all. Mrs. Brief wasn't much better. She picked at her food disinterestedly before eventually giving up and sipping her glass of water instead.

"I bet he's hungry," Bulma said.

Her mother could only nod. She knew better than anyone how much the boy ate since she was the one who always provided the food for him. He kept her on her toes in the kitchen, that was for sure. More than likely he wasn't getting enough to eat wherever he was.

"Don't worry, honey. He'll be alright," Mrs. Brief said softly.

Bulma frowned and slammed her hands against the table. "Don't worry? You've been telling me not to worry for two weeks, Mom! I can't help it!" she yelled. Ignoring the stares from the other patrons in the restaurant, Bulma stood up and stormed away from the table. She was sick and tired of being told not to worry when all she wanted to do was break down and cry. She was trying so hard to stay strong, but it was getting too hard.

"Oh, dear." Mrs. Brief stood up and chased after her daughter. She knew how hard her daughter was taking Vegeta's disappearance. Worse than her or her husband. They all missed him, but Bulma was undoubtedly the closest to him.

Vegeta growled and tossed his scouter over his shoulder when he couldn't get the transmission to go through. Either all the technicians were too busy to answer or there was some sort of temporary interference. Either way, he was stuck without anything to do until he could get in contact with the technician who was surprisingly patient in his efforts to help him get the space pod fixed enough to get him to another planet.

He got out of the space pod and circled around it, not knowing what else to do for the time being. He looked up at the clear blue sky and sneered. He was tired of the blue sky of Earth. He was tired of the peaceful planet that deluded him into thinking it was something he would eventually have. He hated it for making him go soft and he hated it for not having advanced enough technology for him to easily leave and get back to Frieza. Most of all, though, he hated it for being home to the humans that he grew to care about.

'I'm a warrior, not some kind of weakling pansy!' he shouted mentally. 'I live for battles. I love to kill. I have no heart. No soul. I do not need or want peace. What I want is to get back to my old life of purging planets. I want to forget I ever came here. I hate this stupid planet. I hate everything about it and I want to go… where? Back to the lizard? So he can beat me to within an inch of my life every day of my miserable life?' He scoffed.

'Why does it matter what I want? It's never mattered before and it never will. I never wanted to go to Frieza when my father handed me over. I never wanted to leave my planet. I never wanted to become a lowly soldier in the lizard's army. I never wanted to be the last of the royal bloodline. I never wanted to live to see my people destroyed. I never wanted to be a slave. I never wanted anything that happened in my life!'

"Stop with the self-pity," he hissed. "It only makes me lose my mind."

'No more!' He ground his teeth and lowered himself to sit on the ground. 'I will think about this no more! I will not think about anything!' He balled his hands into fists, tearing up the grass around him, and beat his fists into the dirt.

_"There's my little prince," he heard the silvery voice he loved float through the air._

_ He whirled around and embraced the strong, slender leg of his mother with both arms. He looked up at her brilliant smile and grinned. "Mother! I was looking for you!"_

_ She patted his head and ran her fingers through his wild flame of hair. "What for?"_

_ "I wanted to tell you that my power level reached 1500 today!"_

_ She feigned surprise and knelt down in front of him. "That's amazing, Vegeta," she said. "You're going to be a great warrior someday. You'll be the strongest saiyan to ever live."_

_ "You think so?"_

_ "I know so." Her smile faltered for a moment before she forced it back. "I just wish I could see the wonderful warrior you grow up to be."_

_ Vegeta's brows furrowed. "Why won't you?"_

_ She sighed and blinked back the tears in her onyx eyes. "Because you're not going to be staying on Vegeta-sei much longer, my prince. Lord Frieza has requested your service in his army. He will personally train you." She couldn't mask the bitterness in her voice or the expression of unbound rage on her face._

_ "Lord Frieza?" Vegeta asked. "But I don't want to go with him! I want to stay here and train with you and father."_

_ "You must, Vegeta," she sighed as she pulled him into a tight embrace. "I want you to stay here, too, but you must go. It is your duty as crown prince of Vegeta-sei. Never forget who and what you are, Vegeta. And never give up hope. One day you will kill that bastard and make him pay for everything he has done to our proud race."_

Vegeta opened his eyes and groaned as he threw himself onto his back to stare up at the darkening evening sky. He didn't want to remember that. He didn't want that memory to ever resurface. But there it was at the forefront of his mind and there was no burying it again until he fully relived it. He would never forget, just like his mother commanded him. He couldn't forget. Those words were burned into his memory forever. He closed his eyes again and slid his hand across his face.

'Being alone isn't good for me. With only myself for company I have nothing to do but delve into my memories.' He sighed and opened his eyes again. He could see the first stars shining brightly above him. He'd been to some of them. Destroyed the civilizations that toiled under their light during the days. It was strange to think about that, how those tiny specks of light were the centers of star systems he'd visited before. 'I have got to get off this planet soon.'

The next day, Vegeta returned to West City to find a float switch for the fuel gauge in his pod. It wasn't the most important repair, but it was one he could figure out how to do on his own and he was still having trouble getting a connection through to base. At least he would feel like he was doing something productive if he got that somewhat useless repair done. He landed on the roof of a two-story building across the street from an auto parts store. It seemed the most reasonable place to start looking for the simple device he wanted.

He grabbed the drain pipe and slid down the side of the building. He looked both ways down the street before crossing it and went inside the store. He walked up and down the aisles but didn't see what he was looking for. He shrugged and went to the counter where a fat, balding man with a greasy ponytail wearing an ugly brown shirt with a white patch that said "Jerry" on it was standing.

"What do you want, kid?" Jerry asked. "We don't sell parts to toy cars."

Vegeta pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "I'm not looking for parts to a toy car, you brainless oaf. Do you or do you not have a float switch in stock?"

"Little brat," he heard the fat man grumble. Then he replied, "Yeah, we got 'em. Check aisle three."

Vegeta sneered at the disgusting excuse for a living being and turned to go to the third aisle. Perhaps he had simply overlooked the switches the first time around. He was honestly surprised when he found the float switches, having thought the blob of fat at the counter was too stupid to know where anything in the store was kept. He picked up a float switch and headed for the door.

"Hey, kid, that's not free you know!" Jerry yelled from behind the counter.

Vegeta smirked and gave the man a rude hand gesture as he walked out the door into the bright sunlight. He blinked a few times as his eyes readjusted to the light. He started down the sidewalk and got a ways down the block before he heard someone screaming at him to come back. He didn't have to look to know it was Jerry.

"Get back here, you brat!"

Vegeta grinned and took a few steps as he broke into a run before a hand clamped onto his shoulder and held him in place. He turned and saw the hand belonged to a man wearing a navy blue uniform. He instantly recognized it as the uniform of the pitiful law enforcement of the city.

"Excuse me, young man," the police officer said sternly, "But I think you need to return that."

"Not on your life," Vegeta growled. He dropped the switch on the ground and grabbed the cop's arm and whirled around, twisting the man's arm with him until he heard a sickening crack as his shoulder was dislocated.

The cop collapsed to his knees, holding his shoulder with his other hand.

"A word of advice," Vegeta told the fallen policeman, "don't get in my way." He picked up the float switch and sprinted down the street.

Dr. Brief sighed heavily as he hung up the phone. The police finally contacted him, but not with good news. They had an 'encounter' with Vegeta that didn't end well for the police officer who found him. He learned that, not only was Vegeta missing, he was in the habit of robbing from stores all over the city and now he had assaulted an enforcer of the law. He was digging himself deeper and deeper into trouble. As if it hadn't been hard enough to deal with him killing two criminals. At least in that case he could make the excuse that it was necessary to defend his wife and Bulma. Now there was no just cause for his delinquent behavior.

He chuckled humorlessly. "That boy is out of control. But at least we know he's doing fine. It would be better to know where he's been staying so we could find him."

Vegeta returned to his space pod that afternoon and immediately went to work fixing the fuel gauge. He was proud of himself for being able to figure out how to do that without help and without accidentally causing further damage to any other part of the pod. Satisfied with his work, he sat in the seat and tried to get his scouter to connect with the base so he could get some real work done. But as before, he was unable to get his transmission to go through.

"Is something wrong with the damn scouter?" he wondered aloud as he opened it to check and make sure everything was in working order. He frowned when he didn't see anything wrong with it. He almost hoped that _was_ the source of the problem so he could fix it. Whatever was wrong was apparently out of his control. All he could do was wait. He dropped his scouter on the seat next to him and raked his fingers through his hair. Nothing seemed to be going right for him lately. Not that it ever did, but that was beside the point.

'I wonder how Nappa and Raditz are doing. If they're lucky Frieza will get tired of the worthless morons and kill them. Then they can go join the rest of our race in hell. That would be better than the life we have.' Vegeta sank deeper into the seat and tried to get off that train of thought. They might be worthless morons, but they were his only companions. The only saiyans left other than himself. How sad that that was what his kingdom was reduced to. Three saiyans. He didn't want them to be killed by the lizard. Let them have an honorable death instead. Maybe someday he would kill them personally. That would be the most honorable death they could have.

Vegeta got out of the space pod and decided to go find some food. He was getting hungry. There was a stream nearby that led into a pond. It was filled with fish of various sorts, many of which he recently discovered to be pleasant to the taste. He headed in that direction and stopped when he reached the bank of the stream. He peeled his clothes off and jumped into the clear, cold water. It was refreshing on the hot July afternoon. He swam down the stream until he reached the pond and then dove deeper into the water.

He scared a school of fish and grinned when they darted in all directions to escape the predator in their midst. None of them were very large, but in a few minutes he had an armful of squirming fish as he pulled himself out of the water. He dropped the fish on the dry ground and shook the excess water out of his hair while they flopped around in a desperate attempt to get back to the water.

He sat down at the edge of the water and formed a small ki blade that he used to gut and skin the fish. He didn't bother cooking them, instead pulling the flesh from their bones and eating it raw. It didn't take him long to finish off the last of the fish. He jumped back into the water and swam around the pond lazily. There was nothing for him to do for the rest of the day. He already did his daily training, made another repair on his pod, and failed to make a connection with base. When he got bored with his lack of strenuous activity, he swam back up the stream until he reached his pile of clothes and dragged himself out of the water. He dried himself with a flare of ki before pulling his armor back on.

"I'll just train more until I'm too tired to keep going," he told himself with a shrug.

The next morning Vegeta uncurled from the seat in his space pod and stretched his aching body, groaning in pain with each movement he made. Maybe training the whole day wasn't such a good idea. He dismissed that thought. It passed the time and it could only help make him stronger. He didn't realize that determination would become a lifelong obsession. He crawled out of the pod and stretched his arms over his head with a yawn.

The sun was lighting the horizon but it was still dark out. As always, he woke before dawn regardless of how tired he was. He frowned and rolled his shoulders a few times to ease the tension and aching. It wasn't very effective. He picked his scouter up from the floor of his space pod and put it on, ready to try connecting with base again. He pushed the button and waited impatiently for several minutes. When it became apparent that the connection wasn't be made, he growled and had to refrain from crushing the scouter in his hand when he took it off. He scowled at the useless device and threw it back into the pod and closed the hatch.

'Best way to get rid of aches is to exercise more,' he told himself with a mental groan as he moved into the starting position of his kata. He started going through the motions despite the protests of his tired muscles.

When he was finished he leaned against his space pod and wiped the sweat from his brow. His muscles were trembling and aching worse than ever, but he felt adrenaline pumping through his veins, lessening his pain. If he couldn't contact a technician to guide him through the last of the repairs on his pod, then he didn't have much else to do during the day. He turned his head toward the city and shrugged. If nothing else he could get some cooked food there. He didn't really mind eating his meat raw, but something cooked would be a nice change.

He flew over to the stream and took off his clothes to clean up a little before going into the city. He was sweaty and dirty, and he didn't like feeling grimy. He was a prince, after all. He dipped himself in the cold water and scrubbed his body with his hands. He would never get as clean as he did when he had soap, but it was good enough. He vigorously scrubbed his hair to rid it of built-up dirt before stepping out of the stream and drying himself with a flare of ki.

Vegeta sat down on the bank of the stream and pulled his clothes back on, then laid back in the tall grass. He ignored the rumbling in his stomach as he stared up at the sky. He crossed his arms under his head and uncoiled his tail from around his waist. It laid next to him, the tip curling and twitching in contentment. It wasn't Vegeta-sei. No planet would ever be able to compare to his. But he had to admit this one was kind of nice. If the sky were red… he snorted and closed his eyes. 'Maybe I'll return here after I've defeated the lizard.'

A few quiet minutes passed before he kicked his legs and landed on his feet. He jumped into the air, flared his ki, and sped off toward the city to get some breakfast.

Vegeta landed in a secluded alley near the same restaurant he ate in before he went to live at Capsule Corporation. He ran across the street and went inside. It was exactly as he remembered it. There were several other patrons, all tired, and an old hag of a waitress. Vegeta walked to the counter and took the same seat as last time. He could appreciate consistency.

"Haven't seen you here for a while," the old waitress said. Normally she wouldn't remember customers who weren't regulars, but the strange flame-haired boy stood out in her mind. Everything about him was unusual.

His black eyes shot up to meet hers when he heard her comment. "Hn."

She leaned against the counter and pulled out her pad of paper. "Know what you'd like, honey?"

He shrugged. "Whatever the special is."

The old waitress wrote his order down and went to take it to the cook. Vegeta watched her shuffle away, thinking he should have ordered more. His breakfast wouldn't be all that filling, but it would be good, at least. His eyes roamed around the diner as he waited. There wasn't much to see, so he turned back to scowl at the counter in front of him.

A plate piled high with food was set down in his line of sight and slid across the counter to him. "There you go, honey," he heard the waitress say. "Anything else I can get you?"

"Water."

Vegeta heard her shuffling away as he started eating. The omelet was stuffed with cheese, ham, bacon, and sausage. He was glad there was a lot of meat in it. There was also toast and hash browns on the side. Not much, as he expected, but it was a nice change from wild game. It didn't take him long to finish it all.

When he was done, he again considered leaving without paying for his meal. He'd been stealing from stores all over the city, why bother paying for this? He shrugged to himself. For some reason, he didn't want to walk out without paying. He waited for another customer to walk past and pick-pocketed him. He used the money in the man's wallet to pay before leaving the diner.

'What do I do now? I can't connect with base and I don't know how to fix my pod.'

Vegeta started walking through the city, not having anything better to do. He found himself walking into the city park a while later. It was a pleasant place to be, surrounded by trees. There was a small lake at the center where he could walk around in the sunlight and hear the wind rustling the leaves and the waves of the lake lapping against its banks. He liked the feeling of being in nature while being in the midst of the city. It was late morning by the time he stopped wandering through the park. He climbed a tree a good distance from the pathway cutting through the forest and reclined on one of the branches to take a nap before lunch.

"Mom, let's go this way," Bulma said, tugging her mother's hand to go down the street they were crossing.

"Alright, honey," Mrs. Brief agreed. She followed her daughter down the sidewalk. She couldn't help but notice how tired Bulma was. She hadn't been sleeping well since Vegeta left. Several nights she was woken by Bulma's screams of terror in her sleep, no doubt having nightmares about their terrible experience two weeks prior. Then, every day, she rose early to continue her search for the missing boy.

They had just finished eating lunch and were again walking the streets of West City in hopes of spotting Vegeta somewhere. It didn't matter that over two weeks had gone by. They weren't going to give up.

The street they were on took them past West City Park. Bulma hated walking by there, the memory of her attempted abduction still fresh in her mind. She shuddered when she thought about what would have happened had Vegeta not arrived on time to save them.

"There they are!"

Bulma whirled around when she heard a man yell behind her. She screamed when she saw a man and a woman running toward her. They had guns and didn't look like they were out selling girl scout cookies. Mrs. Brief turned when she heard her daughter's scream and shrieked when she saw what had her daughter so scared. Without thinking, she grabbed her daughter's hand and started running in the opposite direction.

"Help! Somebody help us!" Mrs. Brief screeched. The area of the city they were in was mostly deserted during regular work hours. There was no one else around that they could see, but maybe someone would hear them.

Vegeta growled as a piercing sound brought him abruptly out of sleep. If there was one thing he hated, it was something waking him up before he was good and ready to wake up. He heard the sound again and immediately recognized it as a scream of distress, not unlike those he heard when he was on a purging mission. He grumbled as he stretched his arms over his head before sliding off the tree branch to land in a crouch on the ground.

"Someone, please!"

Vegeta cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders a few time to ease the aches still lingering in his muscles. Training that morning helped a little bit, but he still felt stiff. Maybe he could spend the rest of the day training more to limber up. When his stomach growled, he decided it was long past time to find a decent lunch. He enjoyed his breakfast, but it left him unsatisfied and now his body was demanding adequate nourishment.

Mrs. Brief fell down as the man caught up to her and tackled her to the ground. She screamed again, a combination of pain and fear lacing her voice. She urged her daughter to keep running when she saw her pause in her flight. "Run, Bulma!" she screamed. "Run!"

Tears were rolling down Bulma's face as she turned and put all her energy into sprinting away from the woman who was still pursuing her. She didn't understand why they were after her and her mother. There had to be some connection between this and the attempted kidnapping before. Her mind reeled with fear as she considered the idea that they were going to be hunted down like animals until they were finally captured. Why would anyone want to kidnap them?

Vegeta's attention was caught when he heard the girl's name. He shook his head slowly, not willing to believe that she and her crazy mother were in trouble again. He took off toward the source of all the ruckus and came to a sudden halt when he saw two people attacking the Briefs. He felt pure, unadulterated rage welling up inside as he clenched his hands into fists.

"Get away from them," he growled. He watched as the man holding Mrs. Brief down turned to see who spoke to them.

"Who're you?" the thug asked.

Vegeta's tail unwound from his waist and lashed behind him angrily as he slowly advanced on them. Up ahead, Bulma stopped when she heard his growl, nearly getting plowed over by the woman chasing her. She hardly even noticed the woman grabbing her arms and dragging her back toward the man and Mrs. Brief.

"Vegeta?" she whispered.

When the man pulled his gun from its holster and aimed it at the young saiyan, Bulma screamed, thinking for sure he wasn't going to make it out of this scuffle alive. He was lucky the last time, but two times? Unlikely.

Vegeta continued stalking toward the man, a fire of hatred burning in his obsidian eyes. "Who the hell is hiring you scum?" he spat.

"That's none of your business, kid," the man replied with a sneer. "Back off before I shoot. I'm not going to mess this job up like the last idiots did."

"You already did," Vegeta said softly. It was the calm before the storm.

Instead of replying, the man pulled the trigger. Bulma and Mrs. Brief both screamed when they heard the deafening sound. Vegeta remained unfazed as he snatched the flying bullet out of the air and dropped it on the ground in front of him.

"That's not possible!" the woman gasped, nearly losing her grip on Bulma as she started struggling viciously to get away and run to Vegeta.

Mrs. Brief was now fighting against her captor with every ounce of strength she had. The man, who had been distracted by Vegeta's appearance, turned his attention back to her and slammed the butt of his gun into her head. It didn't knock her out, but she was dazed and momentarily stopped her struggling.

No more than a second later the man found himself sprawled out on the ground with a young saiyan on top of him, a feral growl resonating through his chest and teeth bared in a ferocious snarl. His tail whipped through the air behind him as he straddled the man's chest and started beating him senseless.

The first punch split the man's lip. The second punch broke the man's nose. The third punch broke the blood vessels in his eye. He screamed in pain as the boy's fists continued to rain down on his broken, battered face. He tried to free his arms, but they were locked under Vegeta's legs, leaving him utterly defenseless.

"You stupid fool!" Vegeta snarled. "I will make you pay for that."

"Get him off me!" the man yelled to his accomplice.

The woman shook her head and released Bulma. She turned on her heel and ran. If her comrade expected her to take on a kid who had superhuman speed and the behavior of a wild animal, he was out of his mind. Self-preservation was more important to her than a stupid job. Let someone else take the kid on and kidnap the Briefs.

Vegeta slammed his fist into the man's face one last time before he slipped into unconsciousness. "Pathetic," he muttered as he rose to his feet. He remembered what Dr. Brief told him, that he should never kill again. He wouldn't immediately end the man's life, but he made sure he would never recover even if he was rushed to get medical attention right away. He walked over and pulled Mrs. Brief to her feet, ignoring her whimpering when she saw what happened. "Call the damned police."

While Mrs. Brief pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and started dialing, Vegeta took off after the fleeing woman. He had some unanswered questions that needed to be answered, even if he had to beat them out of her. Bulma was knocked down and fell ungracefully on her backside when he rushed past her.

The woman glanced over her shoulder when she heard rapid footsteps following her and cried out when she saw who it was. She ducked into an alley and ripped her gun out of her holster. It was her last defense even if the kid already proved he could catch bullets.

"Get away from me!" she shrieked when he went after her into the alley. She fired her gun five times before she stumbled backwards over an old tire. Vegeta caught each of the bullets and threw them into the wall, leaving five small holes where they hit.

Vegeta sneered at her cowardice as she fell. "Tell me who the hell hired you and I _might_ let you live."

"I – I don't know," she stuttered. Her eyes nervously shifted around the alley as she searched for a possible escape route. "My partner, he's the one that took the job."

"Bullshit."

The woman held her hands up over her face defensively. "I swear, I don't know!"

Vegeta kicked her, slamming her into the wall behind her. "Don't lie to me, bitch!"

She coughed up a mouthful of blood and started sobbing. She couldn't form words anymore as she scrambled to get away from the demon spawn. He reached down and grabbed the back of her shirt and threw her toward the street. She groaned in pain when her body hit the ground, no longer having the energy to scream.

"This is the second damned time someone has tried to kidnap them," he hissed as he knelt down next to her. "I'm not going to let it happen again. Tell me who hired you."

He waited for an answer, completely unmoved by the way she curled into the fetal position and convulsed with sobs that wracked her body. She coughed up more blood and took a deep breath before begging him to leave her alone. "Turn me in to the cops, but please don't kill me."

He snorted. "You are useless to me dead. I'm not handing you over until you tell me what I want to know."

The woman shook her head again. "I don't know nothin' about him. Just the name."

"Then why," he growled, pulling her up to eye level by the collar of her shirt, "don't you tell me the damn name?"

"Conrad. Charlie Conrad."

Vegeta's lips curled into an evil smirk before he struck her temple, instantly knocking her out. "Charlie Conrad, huh? I'll have to find out who he is and pay him a little visit." Vegeta grabbed the woman's arm and dragged her back to where Bulma and Mrs. Brief were waiting by the unconscious man for the police to arrive. He left the woman lying next to the man and turned to leave. He had some business to take care of. Even if he wasn't staying with the Briefs anymore, he still wasn't going to let any low-life keep hunting them down like this. His attachments, much as he hated them, ran deep. He couldn't turn his back on them when they were in trouble.

"Vegeta, wait!" Bulma yelled as she hurried over to him. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and refused to let go when he tried to push her away. "We've been looking everywhere for you for the past two weeks, we're not letting you get away again."

Mrs. Brief was quick to follow her daughter, carefully sidestepping the bodies on the ground. She pulled Vegeta into an embrace of her own as soon as Bulma let go of him. "You're going to come home with us and stay at Capsule Corporation, young man. We're not letting you live out here on the streets."

Vegeta was dumbstruck. Why would they want him back at Capsule Corporation? Didn't they want him to leave in the first place? He left because he thought he wasn't wanted there. Maybe it was only the old man who wanted him to leave. He wasn't with them, after all. Perhaps they were going against his wishes by seeking him out in the city.

"But I thought you wanted me to leave," he mumbled.

"Never in a million years would we want you to leave," Mrs. Brief assured him. She hugged him tighter as if to prove her point.

He gently freed himself from her arms and took a step back to give himself some space. "You're sure?"

"Of course, honey!"

It wasn't in Vegeta's nature to easily give in when someone else wanted him to do something. He would put up a fight even if he wanted the same thing simply because he didn't want to let anyone push him around. But this case was different. He knew it was dangerous to form and hold attachments to anyone. He was afraid that if he put up much of a fight, they would give up. Vegeta shrugged one shoulder. If they were willing to invite him back into their home, who was he to decline? He didn't like being separated from them anyway. "Ok."

Bulma jumped on him in another hug. "I'm so glad we finally found you!"

"Hn." Vegeta disentangled himself from her embrace and dusted himself off. "I will come back later. I need to take care of something first."

"When will you be back?" Bulma asked.

"I don't know. As soon as I get this done." He turned on his heel and stalked away from them. He could see a police car flying around the corner down the street and figured they would clean up the mess he left behind.

"Should we go after him?" Bulma asked her mother.

Mrs. Brief could only shake her head. "I don't think so, dear. He'll be back."

'Charlie Conrad. I don't know how I'm going to find the bastard, but I will. And when I do, he's going to be sorry he was ever born.' Vegeta went into an alley and leaped onto the fire escape and climbed up to the roof of the building. He walked along the edge of the roof, considering where he should start his search. The sooner he found him and killed him, the sooner he could return to his pack.

_A/N: It seems Vegeta gave in easily. Maybe too easily? Perhaps, but consider how strong his attachment to the Briefs is. Being exiled from Capsule Corp was the worst thing to happen to him since his planet was destroyed...Anyway, chapter 32 is almost complete. I'm not sure how many chapters this story is going to be. At 32 I feel like I might be somewhere around halfway done. Maybe. I write long stories. If you've ever read my other story, _Rediscovering Honor_, you know that ;) As far as how frequently I'll be updating this story... I'm not sure. Probably every other day. I think I'm going to alternate days spent reading and writing and I'll post on the days I read (like today). That is totally the best part of no more college: I can read what I want when I want! I'm a nerd, yes._

_Review, please! I'm absolutely loving your feedback on this story!_


	17. Justice

Justice

In Vegeta's experience, thugs were hired by higher-ups in the criminal world. Therefore, whoever hired the thugs who tried to kidnap Mrs. Brief and Bulma were hired by someone who was a 'lord' in the criminal subculture. He didn't know much about how crime worked on Earth, but he doubted it was much different than the dozens of other planets he'd traveled to in his life. All he had to do was find a common hangout, eavesdrop on some conversations, and ask the right people the right questions, and he would probably be able to sniff out one Charlie Conrad in no time. Even if that was a pseudonym, he'd find the man behind the mask.

One question he had was why the Briefs were a target. At least, the female Briefs. He knew they were rich and prestigious. That meant that whoever wanted them either wanted to use them as ransom against Dr. Brief or as leverage in a business-related ordeal. That meant 'Charlie Conrad' could either be some slime-ball low-life that dealt in the lower end of the crime spectrum or a powerful businessman with friends in low places. It was Vegeta's task to figure out which it was.

He started his search in the slums of West City, figuring that's where crime was the worst. Where there was crime, there were criminals. Many of them would work independently, but undoubtedly he would find traces of a criminal network if he searched in the right places. He had a knack for finding the sleazy creeps who used law-breaking as their livelihood. Often, he used them for his own purposes, bending their wills to accomplish his own goals in exchange for their enduring longevity. He did not consider himself on the same level as them. They were merely pawns in his own game of survival. He was above them and made sure they knew it.

Vegeta spent three days wandering the streets before he overheard a piece of information of interest: "D'you hear what happened to the second team he sent after 'em?"

The saiyan, who had been reclining on the ledge of the second story of an old brick building, glanced down at the two men passing by on the sidewalk. They were conversing in hushed tones and consistently glancing over their shoulders and looking around to make sure no one was around to overhear them. They didn't think to look up.

"Yeah," the second man replied. "I heard they were beaten up pretty bad 'fore the coppers got to 'em. He's havin' a hard time gettin' anyone to take the job now."

"Bunch o' cowards. I'd take it if he'd give me the job."

The first man's companion nodded as he checked over his shoulder once more. "You're tellin' me. I could use fifty grand." The two men rounded the corner of the building and continued on their way down the street, never knowing they inadvertently told someone their secret information.

'So, Conrad's offering a large sum of money for the successful kidnapping of the Briefs,' Vegeta thought. 'I wonder where one might inquire about such a job.'

The saiyan jumped down to the ground and sniffed the air until he locked on to the scents of the men who passed by not a minute earlier. He logged it away in his memory and started following their scent trail back the way they had come. Even if it didn't lead to anywhere interesting, he could find them again and, if nothing else, forcibly extract the information he wanted from them.

It was slow going following the men's fading scents. The city was filled with different odors that were not only distracting but stronger than that of the men; car exhaust, garbage, bubble gum stuck to the sidewalk, every scent worked to disguise the men. There were times he lost the trail completely and had to back up and search it out through all the layers of odors hanging in the air. Finally, after more than two hours, he came to the door of a rundown tavern that had a picture of a woman's silhouette in the window. His lip curled in disgust when he realized what sort of establishment it was.

When Vegeta walked in the door his eyes immediately started burning as cigarette smoke wafted through the dimly lit room. Ignoring the putrid scent, Vegeta took a few steps further into the little hellhole, his eyes scanning the area for anyone who looked like they might have some information for him. To his left was some sort of stage with stools around it. There were two metal poles extending from the floor of the stage to the ceiling. No one was over there. His suspicions about the type of business he was in was confirmed. He had seen many like it on other planets, dragged there by other soldiers despite his age. It was sickening to him. He turned from it and saw a row of tables along the far wall. All of them were empty but one. He saw a small group of men, five or six that he could see from his standpoint, sitting in a corner booth and started walking in their direction, his feet silent on the stained brown carpet.

"Hey, get out o' here, runt!"

Vegeta's head slowly turned to the side, a snarl on his lips. There was a man standing behind a bar glaring at him and pointing toward the door. Vegeta's tail uncoiled from his waist and started twitching from side to side. He wasn't going anywhere until he got what he wanted. His burning gaze locked onto the man who started sweating under the intensity of the boy's glare. He picked up a glass from the bar and started polishing it with a white towel, taking sudden interest in his work instead of the flame-haired boy. He was a smart man and knew when it was better to keep his mouth shut. It wasn't as though he didn't know a good number of his regular patrons weren't such good citizens.

Vegeta turned back to the men in the booth and continued walking toward them. He could hear them talking quietly amongst themselves. Any human wouldn't have been able to hear a word they said, but his keen hearing enabled him to make out what they were saying from across the room.

"It's gotta be the same person who interfered the first time!"

"I thought you said they ain't got a bodyguard."

"They don't."

"Then a benevolent stalker?" one man snorted.

"Who knows?"

"We can't let it happen again."

"What are we gonna do 'bout it?"

By the time the last question was asked, Vegeta had reached the table where they were huddled around their bottles of beer. They looked nervous, agitated, somewhat frustrated. Some of them were more relaxed, reclining back in their seats with faces red from intoxication. The rest of them held onto their drinks with one hand but didn't take many swigs of them.

"Excuse me, _gentlemen_," Vegeta drawled once he stopped at the end of the table.

The man closest to him glanced over and frowned. "What do you want, kid?"

The corner of Vegeta's lips turned up in a smirk. "I want to know who Charlie Conrad is."

He was met with silence. Some of the men openly gaped at him while the rest scowled and shifted in their seats, ready to throttle the kid for speaking that name so casually. Vegeta saw their reactions and his smirk grew. He crossed his arms over his chest and lifted his chin so he could look down his nose at them.

"Don't know who you're talking about, runt. Now beat it."

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Tell me what I want to know or I swear I will rip your entrails out and make you eat them before you die."

The men at the table were clearly taken aback by the boy's threat. They hadn't paid him much mind when he first came over, asking about a name he probably heard somewhere on the street. But now he was issuing unveiled threats much too gruesome for a typical kid.

"We don't know nothing."

"That is unfortunate," Vegeta said calmly. He reached out and grabbed the nearest man, apparently the spokesman for the rest of them, by the collar and pulled him closer so their noses were almost touching. "Because I'm going to start killing you until someone learns something."

The man swallowed hard before he remembered he was being threatened by a little kid. He pulled away from Vegeta, who willingly released his hold on the man's sweaty shirt collar. "You can't scare us, kid. And I already told you we don't know nothing."

"Wrong answer." Vegeta drew his fist back before driving it into the man's face. There was the sound of bone cracking followed by the man's howl of pain. His hands flew to his bleeding nose.

All the other men jumped to their feet, pulling weapons out of their hiding places. They clutched their guns and knives in a silent warning for Vegeta to back off. He wasn't intimidated in the least. He eyed each weapon passively before snorting in mild amusement.

"You should put your silly toys away. They won't do you any good against me."

"Get the hell out of here!" one of the drunken men yelled, his words running together.

Vegeta rolled his eyes. He lifted his right hand and extended his index finger and thumb in the shape of a gun and pointed it at the drunkard. "Bang."

The men shouted in surprise when a thin beam of ki shot from Vegeta's finger and pierced the man's heart. He collapsed back into his seat, dead. Vegeta ducked when one of the men leaped over the table, swinging his knife at him. He punched the man in the gut and threw him to the side right in time to jump over the next attacker and kick him into the wall. He landed on the table and lifted the man with the broken nose by his shirt collar.

"Are you going to tell me what I want to know?"

The man nodded his head.

Vegeta dropped him back into his seat and sat down on the edge of the table, his back to all the other men. "Talk."

Behind him, one of the others raised his gun and pulled the trigger. Vegeta spun around, caught the bullet, and threw it back in a split second. The would-be assassin slumped back in his seat, a bleeding hole in his forehead. Vegeta scowled at the survivors. "Anyone else want to try that?"

The men all shook their heads. Vegeta sneered at them and swung his legs over the edge of the table again. His patience was wearing thin. If they didn't start coughing up some information soon he would just kill the lot of them and find some better, more cooperative informants.

"Alright," the broken-nosed man said, "This is all I know about Charlie Conrad…"

"Mom!" Bulma pouted, stamping her foot on the tile floor, "It's been four days! I don't think he wants to come back."

Mrs. Brief knelt down in front of her daughter and smiled as brightly as she could. "Don't worry, honey, he'll come. You know he's a very independent young man and won't come back until he's good and ready."

Bulma sighed and traced shapes with her toe on the floor. She was tired of waiting for her friend to come back to live with them. She spent two weeks searching for him, and when they finally found him – or rather, he found them – he left again with only a promise to return eventually. He didn't say how long it would be and she was starting to doubt whether he would come back at all. What could possibly be holding him up?

"Cheer up, dear," her father said from his seat at the table. She looked over at him, but his morning newspaper was blocking her view of his face. "He'll be back. Just give him time."

"How's he even going to get back in?" Bulma asked sullenly. "He doesn't have his ID card."

Dr. Brief chuckled and turned the page of his newspaper. "He's a clever enough boy. I'm sure he'll find a way."

"Now sit down and eat your breakfast, sweetie," Mrs. Brief said as she stood up and went back to the stove to finish cooking the bacon.

Bulma trudged over to the table and took her seat. She wasn't really hungry. She was too tired to care about eating. She woke up again last night from another nightmare and hadn't been able to get back to sleep for almost an hour.

Her parents noticed her lack of appetite and the signs of fatigue on her young features. They heard her crying out through the night and knew she was having yet another nightmare. They were deeply concerned for her. How could it not affect her, nearly being kidnapped twice in two weeks? They had hoped that her usual resilience would help her get over the trauma, but they were starting to think she might need some sort of counseling to work through it. They couldn't let her suffering go on like this.

'Please come back soon, Veggie,' Bulma begged in her mind.

Vegeta stopped in front of a large house. He wasn't in the slummy part of town anymore, but he wasn't in an upscale neighborhood either. It was average. The house was average, surrounded by more average lookalike houses along average streets lined with average cars. Nothing to draw any attention, nothing to suggest that within this house lived a criminal mastermind. The tall, beige house didn't look like the hideout for a crime lord at all. He almost wondered if the information he got was all made up. Shrugging, he went up the whitewashed wooden porch steps to the front door and beat his fist against it.

The door was answered a minute later by a thin bald man wearing a black muscle shirt and charcoal gray slacks. Vegeta raised an eyebrow when he saw him. His eyes quickly scanned the man and he smirked when he saw where he had a concealed weapon. He had the right house, after all.

"We don't want any," the man said before moving to slam the front door closed.

Vegeta held the door open and glared at the man. "I'm not selling anything. I'm here to see Charlie Conrad."

"He isn't seeing any visitors," the man replied, again trying to shut the door.

Vegeta growled. "I'm not a visitor. Get the hell out of the way if you want to live."

The man stepped back, more from surprise than surrender. Vegeta took his opportunity to walk in and slammed the door closed behind him. He sniffed the faintly sweet-smelling air and went to the staircase. The man who answered the door ran after him to protest his going upstairs.

"You can't go up there!"

"Watch me." Vegeta's tail bristled and flicked behind him agitatedly. No one told him what he couldn't do. He turned to the side and fired a small ki blast through the man's chest. All was quiet aside from the thump of a dead body hitting the hardwood floor as he started up the stairs. He had something to discuss with Charlie.

When he reached the top of the stairs, he sniffed the air again and turned to the left down a short hallway. There were only two doors – one on the right and one at the end of the hall. Vegeta stalked past the first door and went to the one at the end. Pausing in front of it, he listened for any sounds coming from inside. Someone coughed. Vegeta shifted his weight to his left foot and kicked the door down with his right. The door flew off its hinges in splinters.

"What the hell?"

Vegeta strolled into the room with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes moved over his surroundings, coming to a stop when they reached a man sitting at a simple desk in the corner. He didn't look like much. Pale, scrawny, balding. He might have been in his late thirties.

"Who are you?" he demanded when he saw Vegeta.

Vegeta didn't answer right away. He resumed his survey of the room. It was cloudy with smoke, but not the sour stench of cigarettes. It had the same sweet scent as the rest of the house. There wasn't a lot of furniture. One recliner and a couch around a glass coffee table in the center, lamps in the corners, and the desk where the man – presumably Charlie Conrad – was seated.

He walked over to the couch and sat down, propping up his feet on the table. "You're Charlie Conrad?"

The man stood up, rage in his eyes. "Who do you think you are?"

"That's not important. Are you, or are you not, Charlie Conrad?" Vegeta was losing patience.

"Yes, you punk. Now tell me what you want here!"

"What I want?" Vegeta asked, crossing his arms behind his head. "I want to kill you."

Charlie Conrad scoffed. Death threats didn't scare him. He'd heard way too many in his rise in the criminal world to be fazed anymore. "Get out of here, kid."

"No."

The crime lord was slightly stunned. When he told people to get out, they got out. People listened to Charlie Conrad. He stomped over to the broken door, ready to be rid of the unknown boy's unwanted presence.

"Rolling!" he bellowed. "What the hell are you doing? Get in here!"

Vegeta snickered at the man. Let him call for his bodyguard all he wanted, he wasn't going to come. "Rolling? Bald man? Tall?"

Charlie spun around to face the boy. "Yes," he hissed. "So he let you in?"

"Not exactly."

Realization started to dawn on the criminal that he wasn't dealing with an ordinary kid. "Why are you here?"

"Like I said, to kill you."

"But why?"

"Because you keep hiring blundering fools to kidnap the Briefs. I don't know and I don't care why, but it's going to stop."

Conrad took a few steps forward, his hand moving to his gun. No one was supposed to know he was behind that.

Vegeta held one hand up and brandished his index finger at the man. "Nuh uh, uh. I wouldn't do that if I were you. Several of your lackeys have already tried that on me and you can see how well it worked."

"You're the one who killed my employees, aren't you?"

The cruel smirk that spread across Vegeta's lips chased away any doubts there may have been. He looked quite pleased with himself for his work. "I'm surprised it took you this long to figure it out."

"_What_ are you?" Charlie Conrad asked through clenched teeth.

Vegeta shrugged. "I've been called a lot of things, but all that matters is that I am going to end your sorry existence."

"So you've said two times already. Well, kid, if you intend to kill me, why don't you get it over with?" The attempt to call a bluff failed as there was no bluff. He watched with apprehension as Vegeta rose from his seat in one slow, smooth movement, his eyes locked on him like a predator. That smirk never faltered.

"I had no idea you would be so eager to die," he said. He took one step before Charlie raised his gun and fired. The bullet hit Vegeta's forehead. Then it fell to the floor, not even leaving a mark. "Are we done with these games yet?"

"Die!" Charlie spent his ammunition in a vain attempt to save himself.

Vegeta started laughing, a low sound that grew to insane mirth. "Sorry, but that's what you're doing." In the blink of an eye he was in front of Charlie, his fingers wrapped around the man's throat.

The strong musk of fear permeated the air. Vegeta inhaled deeply and growled in satisfaction. He could see horror in his victim's eyes. Such a familiar sight made Vegeta's body burn with bloodlust. Holding another's life in his hands always gave him a rush. His eyes dilated with excitement, making him look even more animalistic.

"But your death will not be quick," he hissed. His free hand, burning with ki, trailed down the man's neck and chest, searing his skin, then stopped at his stomach. "Because you see, I don't like anyone trying to hurt my pack mates."

Charlie Conrad could only wheeze and make gurgling sounds as his trachea was crushed in the saiyan's grip. He kicked, flailed his arms, and clawed at the vise grip on his throat, but there was no escape. He tried to scream when he felt the burning intensify and he felt like he was being ripped open.

His perception wasn't too far off. Slowly, Vegeta pushed his hand against the man's stomach until he was impaling him. Hot blood gushed over his hand and flowed down Charlie's body. Vegeta flicked his tongue over his long canines, the reek of blood and death now intermingling with fear and marijuana. He forced his hand all the way through the crime lord's back before pulling it out. Blood spattered on him and Charlie choked in agony and his own blood.

"Don't die on me yet," Vegeta taunted. "We're just getting started."

Bulma sat at the edge of the swimming pool watching the clear blue water ripple in the light breeze. She sighed, wishing Vegeta would hurry up and come back. She was getting lonely always being by herself. She kicked her feet in the water, thoroughly bored. She spent the past hour swimming and was too tired to do it anymore.

"Maybe he didn't believe us. Maybe he decided not to come back. How long are we going to sit around waiting for him?"

Five days! It had been five days since they saw him. He said he needed to take care of something. What could a homeless boy possibly need to do? Bulma frowned and laid back with her arms crossed over her chest. She stared up at the bright blue sky. Maybe Vegeta would drop out of the sky if she wished hard enough. Her rational mind told her otherwise, but she didn't care.

'I miss him a lot. Stupid boy, where the heck is he?'

"Now that's no fun. I insist you stay with me for this," Vegeta said when he noticed his victim losing consciousness. "I'll let you die soon, don't worry."

Charlie Conrad's eyes rolled back in his head as he finally slipped into black oblivion. Vegeta frowned, disappointed. He didn't know when he started enjoying prolonging suffering. When he was young he liked to make death quick and easy. He saw no point in delaying the inevitable. He was a warrior, not a monster. When did he change? Maybe when he was put on the receiving end of these games. He shook his head. It didn't matter when it happened. The fact of the matter was that it did. He became a monster, a cheap imitation of the lizard. It was a sad thing for an eleven year-old boy to look inward and see what he hated the most. He decided not to think about it.

He allowed Charlie Conrad's body to sink to the floor, no longer interested in tearing him limb from limb. He sighed and stepped over the mutilated body of the former crime lord. He already exacted his revenge. Without a second glance he blasted Conrad into the next dimension and left the house.

Vegeta blinked in the bright sunlight. He'd been inside for over a day torturing the deceased criminal and mastermind behind the attempted kidnappings. He yawned and levitated into the air. Sleep would be welcome, as well as a decent meal. Covered in blood and gore, he thought it would probably be a good idea to clean up before going back to Capsule Corporation. He flew out of the city and went to his space pod to pick up his scouter before stopping at the stream to clean himself and his armor.

Bulma stood up and stormed into the compound. She had been stewing in her thoughts for too long and now she was aggravated with her parents and Vegeta because she saw all of them as being at fault for his continued absence. She slammed her bedroom door closed and went to take a shower to get the chlorine out of her hair.

'If I ever see him again, I'm going to give him a piece of my mind,' she swore angrily.

Vegeta flew back to West City and slowed his pace when he saw the domed compound in the distance. Uncertainty reared its ugly head as he drew closer. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to return. Maybe Dr. Brief didn't want him there. Wasn't his word final? He considered turning back. He wasn't scared per se, but he was anxious. He wanted to be accepted back into their home and didn't think he could stand it if he was kicked out again. Before he reached the compound he stopped and hovered in the air, his tail twitching agitatedly behind him.

'I don't need to strengthen these foolish attachments,' he told himself as he half turned away. He looked back at the compound. 'Then again, isn't it already too late for that? At least there all my needs are provided for. It serves my purposes to go back.'

Eventually his stomach and fatigue made up his mind for him. He took a deep breath and flew to Capsule Corporation. He landed on the balcony to his guest room and went inside. The compound was definitely lacking security against airborne threats. He thought about bringing that up to Dr. Brief. Humans didn't fly like he did, but they probably had some kind of technology that could help them out in that department.

Vegeta pulled off his armor and bodysuit and dumped them in the laundry hamper. No doubt Mrs. Brief wouldn't approve of his smelly clothes. He pulled a t-shirt and shorts out of the dresser and put them on before walking out of his room to go to the kitchen and get some nourishment. He hadn't eaten a filling meal in days.

When he walked into the kitchen he saw Mrs. Brief cutting up vegetables at the counter. He marveled at her ability to cook all day, every day, even when he wasn't there. Or had she been cooking large meals since they found him, expecting him to return every day? He shrugged and went to the refrigerator to dig out a snack to hold him over until dinner. It was mid-afternoon and his stomach was growling louder than an angry bear. That was the sound that caught Mrs. Brief's attention.

"Vegeta! When did you get back?" she asked when she turned to see what the source of the noise was. She ran over to him and hugged him as tightly as she could. He was surprised that she was nearly able to cut off his air supply.

"Just now," he answered, hoping to appease her and get her to let go so he could breathe freely again.

Mrs. Brief giggled and released him. "I bet you're awfully hungry. Three weeks on the streets, oh my. I can't imagine how terrible that must have been." She continued on her rant as she went to the refrigerator and pulled a bunch of leftovers out to heat up for the saiyan boy.

"Hn."

"You should go see Bulma, you know. She's missed you so much and I know she'll be so happy to see you back. She was starting to get worried you weren't going to come home."

"Home?" he muttered to himself. He never claimed Capsule Corporation as his home. He didn't have a home and never would, no matter how long he resided in one place. His home was destroyed years ago. He dismissed that thought and went to sit at the table while he waited for Mrs. Brief to lay his small feast out for him.

"Did you get your thing taken care of?" she asked as she poured him a glass of milk.

He raised an eyebrow, not sure what she was talking about. Then he remembered that he told her he had some business to deal with before he returned to the compound. His confused expression was replaced with a smug smirk. "Yes, it's taken care of. It won't be a problem again."

"That's nice, dear."

"Hn."

Vegeta started eating with his usual gusto. Once the first bite of food made it to his mouth all conversation came to a standstill. Mrs. Brief resumed chopping vegetables for dinner and started humming a happy tune to herself. Vegeta was soothed by the sound, off-key though it was. It made him feel at ease being with someone who wasn't terrified of him and didn't hate him. He might never admit it to anyone but himself, but he really liked being with the Briefs. They were weak, helpless, absent-minded, maybe even crazy, but he liked them despite their quirks. Who else would ever go out of their way to make sure _he_ was comfortable? Maybe Nappa and Raditz would, but only because it was their duty to serve their prince.

He was finishing his snack when Bulma burst into the room, practically radiating her umbrage in palpable waves. She didn't notice the reason behind her foul mood as she stomped over to the refrigerator and threw it open to look for something to drink. She pulled out some juice and slammed it down on the counter before reaching into the cupboard for a glass.

"Hello, dear," Mrs. Brief greeted her daughter, cheerful as ever. She didn't need to turn to know who was making all the noise behind her. "Did you have a nice swim?"

"Sure, Mom," Bulma grumbled.

Vegeta watched the blue-haired girl with barely restrained humor as she moved around the kitchen with fire burning in her cerulean eyes. She was furious about something, and he could guess what that something was. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts and anger that she couldn't see him sitting at the kitchen table a few feet away from her. His shoulders started shaking as he worked to suppress his laughter.

"That stupid boy!" she finally yelled. "He's never going to come back!"

Mrs. Brief giggled. "Honey, he's right over there," she said, pointing over her shoulder toward the table.

"Huh?" Bulma whirled around and almost fell over backwards when she saw Vegeta looking right back at her. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment.

He couldn't hold it in any longer. When he saw her blush he broke into uncontrollable laughter. For once his laughter was genuine, not laced with insanity or cruelty. Both of the Briefs noticed the change, though they couldn't quite figure out what the change was. Either way, Bulma and Mrs. Brief also broke into laughter as Vegeta's became terribly contagious. Three weeks of stress, frustration, and resentment were wiped from memory as they let it all go in that moment.

"What's all this laughing about?"

Vegeta immediately sobered up as Dr. Brief walked into the kitchen, his mustache twitching with amusement. He smiled when saw Vegeta at the table and the cheerful mood of his wife and daughter. It was the first time since Vegeta left that he couldn't feel any tension in the air. Not until his gaze met Vegeta's, at least.

What could he say to the boy in way of apology? He never meant to chase the boy out in the first place. Words failed him, so he walked over to where the young saiyan was sitting and, for the first time since he'd lived at Capsule Corporation, drew him into an embrace tight enough to rival his wife. He could feel every muscle in Vegeta's body tense at his touch before it slowly started to lessen.

"I'm glad you're home, son," Dr. Brief told him before pulling away.

Vegeta remained silent as the old scientist walked around the table and took his usual seat. He'd come with the sole purpose of finding out whether or not Vegeta had returned yet, and he got his answer. Now he wanted to stay with his family and enjoy a rare moment of peace with them. Slowly, a shadow of a smile crept across Vegeta's lips. For the first time since his life was stolen from him, he felt accepted. He felt like someone honestly cared for him.

_A/N: Vegeta's a beast! You should never mess with his pack. But you should review. ;)_


	18. Nightmares

Nightmares

_"Look at me, Mom!" Bulma called as she ran through the freshly cut grass. She was holding a kite and slowly the wind started to pick it up. Soon it was sailing high overhead, its brightly colored tail dancing in the breeze._

_ Mrs. Brief clapped for her daughter. "That's wonderful, sweetie!"_

_ Bulma beamed, proud of herself for her small accomplishment. She knew the physics behind flying a kite were fairly simple, but the joy of getting one up in the air and holding it there was untainted by her scientific knowledge. Sometimes seeing the colorful diamond leaping through the air was all it took to lift her spirits along with it._

_ Bulma let out more string, allowing the kite to soar higher in the sky, above the treetops. She laughed in delight as it rose. "Look how high it can go!"_

_ This time, there was no applause. Bulma turned her head to see why, figuring her mother was simply distracted with setting out the picnic. Her eyes widened when she saw a man dressed all in black throwing her mother over his shoulder and motioning for a second man to go after her. She recognized them instantly as the men who tried to kidnap her the first time. Now her mother was down for the count and she was all alone, helpless._

_ She backed away from the tall man who was advancing on her, a malicious glint in his eyes. The string of the kite slipped from her hand and it was carried away by the wind. She glanced over her shoulder at it, wishing she could escape so easily. She turned back and was startled to see that the man was right in front of her, reaching around to grab her in a bear hug she couldn't break free from. Her breathing faltered as she lost her senses in panic._

_ All she could do was scream._

"What the _hell_ are you screeching about, girl?"

Bulma was jolted awake by the gruff voice of a very tired, very irritated saiyan boy. She sat up in bed and wiped the beads of sweat from her brow as she looked over at the silhouette of the flame-haired boy standing in her doorway. She could see the white of his long canines as he snarled at her. Instead of feeling fear, she was strangely comforted by his presence.

"I had a bad dream," she mumbled, somewhat embarrassed.

Vegeta rolled his eyes and leaned against the doorframe. She could see his tail twitching behind him and knew he was rather annoyed. Probably she woke him up, and she knew he didn't like anything waking him up prematurely.

"Did I wake you up?"

"Hn."

"Sorry." Bulma rested her hands in her lap and wadded her bed covers in her fingers.

He grunted again and pushed off from the wall to go back to his own room. If she was done making noise then he could go back to sleep and hope she didn't have another 'bad dream' and wake him up another time.

"Wait, Vegeta?"

He paused and turned to look at her over his shoulder.

"Could you stay with me a minute?"

She could see his indecision as he clenched and unclenched his hands. His tail flicked a little more and then his shoulders rose and fell with a sigh of resignation. He turned on his heel and strode over to the edge of her bed. "What do you want?"

Bulma's gaze moved down to her hands. "I just don't want to be alone right now."

Vegeta felt something strange stirring in his chest as he watched her fidgeting. He was completely overcome with a need to protect her, even if he could only protect her from her inner demons. He sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned back against the headboard. "Stupid girl, you're more trouble than you're worth."

"If you say so, Veggie," she murmured as she wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his chest.

His body went rigid as she cuddled with him. He had no idea what he was supposed to do or if he even wanted her so close to him. He growled faintly, but she either didn't hear it or didn't pay attention to it. When her breathing slowed he finally allowed himself to relax a little. If she was asleep she wouldn't notice him leaving her alone in her room. With that in mind, he started to carefully pry her arms off of him so he could get away from her.

When he was finally liberated from her hold, he softly padded out of her room and closed her door before going down the hall to his own room. He certainly wasn't going to spend the whole night with her if that's what she wanted. He crawled into his own bed and curled around a pillow and soon sank into sleep.

In the morning Vegeta got up at his usual time despite missing a considerable amount of sleep during the night. He shook the tiredness from his head and went downstairs to the indoor garden to do his morning training. None of the Briefs were awake yet so he didn't worry much about hiding his power. He flew through the garden, shot small ki blasts, and raised his power high enough for a visible aura to surround his body like blue fire. He performed his kata for over an hour before the sound of the doors opening startled him. He immediately dropped down to the ground and started stretching.

"Oh, good morning, Vegeta," Dr. Brief greeted him as he walked by. It was time for his morning bike ride around the garden.

"Hn."

"You know, I never did thank you for saving my wife and daughter a second time," the old scientist continued. He looked down at the boy and smiled warmly. "I know I told you to let the police take care of it if it happened again, but you handled it better this time."

Vegeta scoffed and stood up. "If you think letting those scumbags live is an improvement."

Dr. Brief shrugged, not wanting to argue with his houseguest. He would never agree that killing was justified and he probably would never convince Vegeta to adopt his convictions. As long as he refrained from ever killing again, it didn't matter what the boy _thought _was right and wrong. Besides, it wasn't as though he was going to have any more reason to kill. "Regardless, thank you."

"Hn."

Seeing the conversation was over, Dr. Brief went on his way to where he parked his bicycle. There was no use pushing Vegeta to talk when he clearly had no interest in talking. He learned early on that that was one thing the boy resented.

Vegeta sneered when the old man was out of sight. How it was preferable for lowly criminals to be allowed to live was beyond him. He only had the satisfaction of knowing the man would never make a physical recovery and the woman was probably ruined mentally. He hadn't ended either of their lives in the literal sense of the word, but they would wish they were dead. In some ways, he thought that was actually better justice, to make them live with the pain for years. The nagging thought that he was taking excessive pleasure in someone else's suffering came again, but he brushed it aside and finished his stretches.

'Now what do I do?' he wondered. He couldn't train more with Dr. Brief in the indoor garden. He raked his hand through his hair and left the garden to go to his guest room. He could take a shower and then figure out what to do.

At breakfast, Bulma never came downstairs to eat. Vegeta didn't bother asking why. More often than not since she got out of school she slept in later than when breakfast was served. Mrs. Brief sat down at the table across from Vegeta and sipped her coffee while he wolfed down his tall stack of pancakes. She noticed he was eating more than he had before he left, probably because he wasn't getting enough to eat while he was out on the streets.

"Are you going to play with Bulma today, honey?" she asked him when he paused to take a drink of orange juice.

Vegeta grunted noncommittally and resumed eating. He could do that if he couldn't find anything better to do or if she wouldn't leave him alone otherwise. He could safely assume he had another two hours of free time to kill before she woke up. Until then he would have to find something to do on his own. Not that he minded; he was used to solitude and even though he liked the Briefs, he wasn't opposed to having time alone.

He went upstairs to his guest room and sat down at the desk. He put on his scouter and pushed the button to send a transmission through to base. He needed to at least know if he could make a connection or if there was still some kind of interference. He waited a few minutes and was rewarded with the connection going through, finally.

"Prince Vegeta?"

"Yes."

"Have you gathered the materials you need?"

"Yes. I'm not at my space pod at the moment. I wanted to see if I could get a transmission to go through. Why has there been interference the past few days?"

"There were solar flares in our star system."

"Hn." Vegeta sat back in his seat and rapped his fingers on the desk. "I can go to my pod now. I will put a transmission through in half an hour."

"Yes, sir."

When the connection was cut Vegeta realized he really didn't want to go work on his space pod. He had no desire to leave the compound, now or ever. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. 'It doesn't matter what I want, I need to do this.'

He grabbed his ID card off the nightstand and went downstairs. He hesitated when he walked past the kitchen. He could hear Mrs. Brief inside already preparing lunch. She would probably want to know he'd be leaving, if for no other reason than to tell the girl when she got up. Clinging to the reasoning that he was merely preserving his hearing in the future, he went into the kitchen. No one would yell at him – hopefully – if they knew his whereabouts. Sort of. He wouldn't tell them _exactly_ where he was going.

"I'm going out," he announced to the blonde woman.

She turned from the stove and smiled at Vegeta. "Ok, honey. Will you be back for lunch?"

"Hn."

"Have a good time!"

Vegeta left the compound and headed for the field where his space pod was waiting. He was so close to finishing it, it wouldn't be long before he could leave the mudball for good. Then he would be back to his old life of slavery. But at least he would be growing stronger.

"Where'd he go?" Bulma whined after her mother told her Vegeta went out for the morning.

Mrs. Brief started setting the table. "He didn't say, sweetie. Could you get the tea out?"

The blue-haired girl trudged over to the refrigerator and pulled the iced tea out and took it to the table. She'd been up for a little over an hour and she was bored out of her mind. She wasted the first half hour with a shower, but after that she couldn't find anything to keep her mind busy long enough to wait for Vegeta to return. At least he said he would be back for lunch, and since that was going to be served soon he would be returning shortly.

"How did you sleep last night?" Mrs. Brief asked.

Bulma sighed and collapsed into her seat at the table. "Alright. I only had one nightmare."

Mrs. Brief frowned as she went to the stove to get the pot of macaroni and cheese. She hated seeing her daughter so miserable. She was so tired and she couldn't get a decent night's sleep since she was consistently haunted with dreams about being kidnapped. She was more sure than ever that she would have to send her daughter to counseling. She needed help even if she wouldn't ever admit it.

Bulma wanted to tell her mom what Vegeta did for her when she woke him up, but she didn't think he would appreciate her spreading that story. She could never figure out why he didn't like being recognized for the good things he did for anyone, but she would respect his wishes and keep her mouth shut, just this once. She was more afraid than anything that if he found out she told anyone he wouldn't do it again. She wasn't willing to give that up. She slept soundly for the first time in weeks after he came into her room and stayed with her. She felt secure with him at her side, as if he could chase away anything that might harm her.

'He's like my big brother,' she thought happily. She always wanted a brother. He was more than a friend to her, in her opinion. Much more. He was family.

She was still thinking about her 'brother' when he walked into the kitchen. He had grease smeared on his face and shirt and didn't look too happy. Not that he ever looked terribly cheerful, but his face was contorted in a particularly sour expression at the moment. He stalked over to the table and took his usual seat next to Bulma. He didn't bother acknowledging her as he started serving himself.

"Hey, Veggie," Bulma greeted him. "What've you been up to? You're a mess."

He cast her a withering glare before shoveling macaroni and cheese into his mouth at a superhuman speed. He was definitely not in the mood for small talk. He spent the past three hours trying to fix his space pod and barely got anything done. The technician's directions were unclear at best and misleading at worst. He wasn't sure if he was being deliberately confused so he would make mistakes or not. Either way, his space pod still wasn't finished and he wasn't very pleased about it.

"Oh I see," Bulma said with a knowing nod of her head. "You're going to be Mr. Grouchy for the rest of the day because something didn't go as you wanted."

Vegeta rolled his eyes at the childish nickname she gave him. He really, really wasn't in the mood for her stupid comments. It didn't help that he was tired because of his interrupted sleep the previous night. He blamed her for that. No wonder his cognition wasn't fully up to speed when he was trying to decipher the instructions given to him by the technician at base. Stupid girl.

"Alright," she said, "if you won't answer that question, then at least tell me what you're planning on doing this afternoon."

His lip raised in a snarl at her incessant questioning. "Training."

Her face fell. She had hoped he wouldn't give that answer. "Oh. Well, you can train me too, right? I haven't been practicing much since you left because we spent all our time looking for you, but I don't think I've forgotten anything."

"Whatever. Just shut up!" he snapped.

Bulma huffed and cast him a scowl before turning her attention to her food. It was getting cold while she tried to get the stubborn boy to talk more. She took a few bites of her food, all the while watching Vegeta out of the corner of her eye. He really was a grouch. But that was what older brothers were supposed to be like, right? She smiled again. She wondered if he thought of her as his little sister. She hoped so.

"By the way, Veggie," she whispered. "Thanks for last night."

"Hn."

As soon as he was finished eating Vegeta shoved his plate away and stood up to go train in the indoor garden. He didn't know how else to vent his anger. He stalked out of the kitchen and through the halls of the compound with Bulma trailing after him, still trying to make friendly conversation though he steadfastly refused to respond.

The two children spent the afternoon training. Bulma made very little progress and kept interrupting Vegeta's training to ask questions and have him show her what she was supposed to be doing multiple times. After a while he became so frustrated with her he stormed out of the garden and went outside to train in the yard, thinking he would be able to escape the girl there. But luck wasn't on his side as she again followed him and continued pestering him until he gave up and walked her through the short kata he was teaching her step-by-step. While she worked on that he moved a safe distance away from her and started going through his own kata. He was not going to let her distract him. Not when he was feeling so much pent-up aggression that needed some kind of release. If he was to stop himself from going out and killing hundreds of civilians he had to force himself to focus on his training for a while.

Bulma quit long before Vegeta did, but he refused to go back inside with her to watch a movie. He was only interested in continuing his exercise. Finally she left him to his own devices and didn't bother him again until dinner time when her mother sent her out to call him in to eat. Reluctantly, he followed her inside and sat down at the table. He had worked up quite an appetite with his extended workout so he wasn't too upset to interrupt his training for a home-cooked meal.

Bulma nudged him with her elbow when he finally slowed down in eating. "So are you done training now? Want to watch TV with me?"

Vegeta sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. She was relentless in her attempts to get him to spend time with her. His body did feel heavy and sluggish after his intense physical exertion all afternoon. Rest wouldn't be such a bad idea. "Fine."

Bulma beamed at him and finished eating with renewed fervor. She could hardly ever get him to watch TV. He said it was a stupid waste of time to watch some fantasy played out in a little box, but she didn't mind. She liked a few shows and didn't care that it was a waste of time. It wasn't as if she was a bona fide couch potato that wasted the whole summer away sitting in front of the idiot box and eating junk food all day long.

"So let's go!" she said excitedly as she slid off her chair and tugged his arm in the direction of the door.

He growled at her and pulled his arm away from her. "I'm still eating."

Bulma frowned and stamped her foot. He took _forever_ to eat. It was ridiculous. She was tired of waiting for him to be done. "Fine," she relented. "Come up to the recreation room when you're done."

"Hn."

Satisfied with his answer, Bulma went upstairs to the rec. room by herself and turned the TV on. She laid down on the couch and got good and comfortable while she watched a movie that was playing on her favorite channel. She knew as soon as Vegeta came he would demand she sit up instead of 'sticking her disgusting feet in his face.' She giggled when she imagined his grimace and the way he wrinkled his nose when he smelled her feet. She didn't think they smelled all that much, but she thought it was funny that he seemed to think otherwise. He was probably exaggerating anyway.

A few minutes later Vegeta joined her on the couch and, as she predicted, he demanded she get her feet away from him. She sighed dramatically before sitting up and propping her feet up on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"What are you watching?" he asked with a sneer when a bunch of pink elephants started dancing around on the screen.

"It's a movie," she replied. She kind of agreed with him that this part of the movie was stupid, if not creepy.

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at the TV for the remainder of the movie. He was afraid he was losing brain cells watching it, but he told her he would watch it with her, so he was determined to stick it out no matter how badly he wanted to leave. It wasn't that he was against going back on his word over something so trivial, but he didn't want her throwing a fit and pestering him further.

By the time the movie ended, Bulma was exhausted. Her recent lack of sleep was catching up to her and she could hardly keep her eyes open. It was only a few minutes after 8:00PM, but she felt like it was midnight. She yawned and stretched her arms over her head after she turned the TV off.

"Now what, Veggie?" she asked through her yawn. It was hardly understandable.

He shrugged and stood up. "I've wasted enough time. Go to bed, girl."

She nearly fell over when he told her to go to bed. Was that him actually showing that he cared about her? She was obviously too tired for her own good. Normally he wouldn't have mentioned anything about it in any way, would he? She didn't think so. "I don't want to go to bed."

"You're hardly able to stay awake, you stupid girl."

She yawned again, proving him correct. "I know that, but I hate sleeping. I always have those stupid bad dreams that wake me up anyway."

Vegeta snorted and grabbed her shoulder and whirled her around to march her out the door and down the hall toward her bedroom. "They're just dreams."

"And they're scary," she protested.

He rolled his eyes. "You don't know the meaning of scary."

"And I suppose you do?"

He hesitated in responding. If he said he did, then he would be admitting he experienced fear. Having fear was a weakness he would never admit to having. If he told her he didn't know what it meant, then she would use that against him and continue arguing when she really needed to shut up and sleep instead.

"I have dreams that wake me up all the time," he told her. He never said they were 'scary.' He figured that he successfully evaded telling her he was scared of stupid old memories that haunted him in his sleep.

Bulma already knew he suffered from terrible dreams on a regular basis. She'd seen it more than once. She rubbed her arm absent-mindedly as she remembered the first time she went into his room when she heard him crying out in his sleep when he was having a bad nightmare. He broke her arm when he lashed out at her. That had to have been one heck of a nightmare. She didn't think he was scared of anything. He always acted so calm, even when he came to save her from being kidnapped. Well, not calm. He was thoroughly ticked off. But he wasn't scared. Not even when the creeps started using guns against him.

While she was recounting these things, they reached her bedroom door. Vegeta opened the door and shoved her inside, not really caring if she fell over from the force. She wouldn't get seriously injured and he was tired of dealing with her. He was still feeling angry with everything after his horribly frustrating morning.

Bulma caught herself before she fell over and spun around to glare at Vegeta, but he was already walking away. "Good_night_, Vegeta!" she spat.

"Hn."

After sending Bulma to bed Vegeta went to his own room. He didn't have anything better to do, so he sat at the desk and put his scouter on. He pushed the button twice and numbers started racing across the screen. Most of them were negligibly low, but he did find two higher than average power levels on the planet. His interest piqued, he decided to find out who they belonged to later. He pushed the button again to turn it off and leaned back in his chair. He was actually bored. He had nothing to do.

'I could train more,' he thought. 'But I've already trained for hours today.'

He didn't realize how obsessive he was becoming with his training. He used to do it out of necessity, but now it was to pass the time. Then the more he trained the more he wanted to keep doing it. Even when his body was exhausted he wanted to keep going. Even when reason told him he'd trained enough he couldn't get thoughts of training out of his head until he did it.

'Can never train too much,' he told himself as he stood up and went downstairs. He turned to go to the indoor garden, but then he changed his mind and went outside to train in the yard. When he stepped out into the darkness he felt tingles running down his spine. He recognized that feeling well. "A full moon?"

He looked up at the sky and a shudder ran through his body. The moon wasn't full yet, but it would be within two days. The blutz waves weren't strong enough to make him transform, but he could feel an increase in his power. His tongue slid over his canines as primal energy coursed through him. His tail unwound from his waist and slowly curled and uncurled behind him.

Vegeta could hear his pulse rushing in his hears; his body felt ready to make the transformation. He hadn't allowed himself to transform since coming to the mudball. When he saw how short the lunar cycle was he made sure to stay out of the moonlight when there was a full moon. He couldn't take the risk of losing control of himself. He was mostly able to reign in his primal mind as an oozaru, but sometimes it slipped. He never knew what he might do when that happened: destroy all life, his own space pod, any chance he had to get off the planet, or even the planet itself with him still on it. He would rather not transform unless he had Nappa with him to make sure he didn't do something he would regret.

His eyes dilated and his senses all heightened as he stood in the pale moonlight. A low growl rumbled in his chest. He needed to move. He leaped over the gate and bounded through the city, bouncing off buildings and launching himself high in the air to land again on the ground and continue on his way. He felt aggression building and wanted desperately to engage in a challenging fight, but he knew no one on the planet could possibly be strong enough. He thought his body would burst with all the energy inside if he didn't relieve it somehow.

He jumped to the roof of a building and kicked into the air, blasting out of the city to find a secluded location where he could blow off some excess energy. He landed an hour later in a desert and immediately started to power up. A bright blue aura ignited the air around him. He screamed as his power rose and whipped around him like a cyclone. He never felt so powerful before.

When his power hit the maximum he phased out and threw a ki blast into a mountainside, completely destroying it. He started throwing kicks and punches and threw attack after attack until the ground was shaking with explosions. He was completely remodeling the landscape. He laughed as the mountains crumbled into rubble and the ground cracked and split below.

Hours passed before he wore himself out. He didn't stop until his vision was blurring and sweat dripped down the nape of his neck and stung the cuts on his back from flying debris. Panting, he lowered himself to the ground and smirked when he saw the extent of his destruction. The area looked more like a crater than a desert now.

"See what you're up against, Frieza?" he slurred, "You won't stand a chance against me. Not when I've ascended. You'll see."

He fell to one knee and then collapsed face down. Despite his fatigue, he laughed. He laughed long and hard until he choked on the dust. He was insane and he didn't care. He was stronger than ever and he knew he would never be strong enough. But he would keep feeding himself lies to make life bearable. He raised himself up on his elbows and groaned as a wave of dizziness hit him.

'Maybe I overdid it a little.' He laughed again, weakly this time. He fell down as he slipped out of consciousness.

His eyes cracked open. It was still dark aside from the moon and the stars. He knew not much time had passed. His vision was still hazy as he pushed himself to his knees and ran his hand through his mane. He was a little disoriented, but that was normal for him. He exhaled slowly and rose to his feet. He nearly collapsed to his knees before he found his balance.

"Note to self: Do not repeat," he grumbled. When his vision cleared and the dizziness passed he rolled his shoulders back and took a few tentative steps. His weakness was ebbing so he figured it would be safe to fly to the compound. He lifted off the ground and headed back at a safe pace lest he use up the last dregs of his energy and fall to the ground.

By the time he made it back to Capsule Corporation it was after four in the morning. He landed on his balcony and pulled his shirt – now tattered – and shorts off and crawled into bed. He was almost asleep when he heard a bloodcurdling cry in the room next to his. He heaved a deep sigh and rubbed his hand over his face. Maybe the girl would wake herself up.

The screaming didn't last much longer. When it stopped Vegeta curled up and shut his eyes. Finally he could get some sleep, though he would wake up in an hour and a half at the latest. His eyes opened again when he heard his door opening and he cursed himself for not keeping it locked.

"What are you doing here, girl?" he asked. He wanted to sound threatening but his exhaustion mellowed his tone.

Bulma jumped when Vegeta spoke to her. "You're awake?"

"Hn."

"I didn't wake you again, did I?"

Vegeta rolled onto his back and glared at her even though she couldn't see it. "What do you want?"

"I just – I wanted to make sure I didn't wake you up," she said as she turned to leave.

Vegeta kicked the covers off and sat up. "Don't lie to me. What do you want?"

Bulma froze in place and self-consciously rubbed the back of her neck. She hadn't counted on him being awake and now that she was in his room she felt rather childish for coming to him because a dream scared her. She took a shaky breath and explained, "I had another nightmare. I was wondering if I could stay here with you."

He stared at her blankly for a moment. "No."

"Why not?"

"You'll bother me."

"I promise not to."

"Go back to your own room and keep your promise from there."

"But Vegeta!" she whined. "I can't sleep when I'm scared."

"What am I, your security blanket?"

She blushed a brilliant shade of red and was thankful he couldn't see it. "I don't feel scared when I'm with you," she mumbled.

She could hear him muttering in an alien language as he shook his head and lied down with his back to her. He wasn't telling her to get out anymore, and he seemed to have left enough room on the bed for her. Taking that as an invitation she went over to the bed and got in next to him.

"Thanks, Veggie."

Vegeta didn't hear her. He was already asleep. Bulma heard his slow, steady breathing and reached the conclusion that it was safe to move a little closer to him. She still didn't touch him, not wanting to accidentally wake him up. Before long she fell asleep too.

Vegeta woke an hour later. It was earlier than usual. He was confused; why would he wake up early after a late night, especially after he thoroughly wore himself out? Then he felt the bed shifting and heard someone murmuring something. He couldn't understand the words, but he knew the emotion behind them well enough: fear. He rolled over onto his back and scowled at the ceiling as if it were to blame for his misery. He allowed Bulma to toss and turn for another minute until his patience ran out.

He caught her flailing arm and yanked her over next to him and wrapped his arm around her to hold her still. He snarled when she nuzzled into his chest and instantly calmed down. He was about to yell at her for disturbing his sleep when he realized she hadn't woken up.

He released his breath and rolled his eyes. 'Idiot girl. This is going to have to stop soon or I'll probably kill her.'

_A/N: Yeah right, as if 'Geta could ever hurt Bulma on purpose. But he'll never admit that._

_Thank you all so much for the reviews on the last chapter! I loved them all. But I _am_ always a little surprised at the aversion readers have to Vegeta killing. He isn't exactly a teddy bear... oh well. One talk with Dr. Brief isn't going to be enough to convince him killing is wrong when he's learned that killing is not only acceptable, but expected for his whole life._

_I was going to write another chapter today... but that didn't happen. But I have finished chapter 32. For those of you wondering why I don't post all the chapters I have finished so far, I only do one at a time because I want to stay several chapters ahead. It's easier for me to edit them when I know where they're going and it guarantees I'll always have another ready, meaning regular updates for you. If I catch up to where I'm at in writing I might not be able to update for indefinite periods of time. As always, review!_


	19. Hope Lost

Hope Lost

Two weeks passed with Bulma still suffering from nightmares, but over time they became less consistent and she was finally able to sleep through the night. She could only give credit to Vegeta for helping her recover from the trauma of her attempted kidnappings. When her nightmares woke her up she would go to his room and sleep with him for the rest of the night. Sometimes, when she couldn't seem to escape her dreams she would wake up only to find Vegeta in her bed holding her close to him. She didn't know why he did it. She liked to think it was because he cared for her, but she couldn't help but think he did it for his own benefit of being able to sleep without her screams waking him up.

Either way, by the end of the two weeks after Vegeta returned to Capsule Corporation Bulma was no longer afraid to go to bed. She wasn't completely free of nightmares yet, but she knew she would be eventually. Until then, she had Vegeta to give her security. He never mentioned what he did for her, so she stayed silent about the matter as well. She was happy enough knowing he did it for her without her parents or anyone else knowing too. And she definitely wasn't going to say anything and make him change his mind about doing it again.

Vegeta was already eating breakfast one morning in mid-August when Dr. Brief shuffled in, reading his morning paper as was his daily routine. He sat down at the table across from Vegeta and started sipping his orange juice. He lowered his paper when Mrs. Brief set a plate of eggs and bacon in front of him.

"Can you believe this, dear? It seems someone has found what looks to be some sort of alien spacecraft near West City," Dr. Brief reported. He turned the page of his newspaper to continue reading the interesting article.

Vegeta dropped his fork, but neither of the Briefs seemed to notice. He looked across the table at the old scientist, but his newspaper was raised, blocking his view of his face. There was no way. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat. "Alien spacecraft?"

Dr. Brief nodded and lowered his paper enough to see the usually stoic boy staring at him wide-eyed. "Yes, it's really quite fascinating. Looks like only one person could travel in it at a time. Darn thing's busted up though. The government's confiscating it to study."

"Why?"

"Oh, I suppose they want to cover it and tell the world it was a hoax like they always do."

Vegeta frowned and turned his gaze back to his meal. He suddenly didn't feel hungry anymore. If the humans were taking his space pod away somewhere, how would he ever get it back? He didn't know where it was being taken and that was likely confidential information that only the fattest cats in the government would have access to. There was no way he was ever going to be able to find out where it was being taken. Maybe there was still hope. Maybe it was still in the field and no one had actually moved it yet. He could kill anyone who came near it. But wouldn't that essentially give his identity away? He didn't want that. Not to mention he would have to guard it every hour of every day from there on out to make sure they didn't come for it while he was away. That would make finishing repairs impossible as he would have no way to gather supplies.

He returned to his schooled stoic façade and picked at the rest of his food, not really eating it. 'That's just great!' he raged. 'If those fool humans take my pod then I'll have no choice but to wait for someone to get here and take me back. That's going to be at least another six months. I can't wait that long. If I do there's no way I'll survive the beating the lizard will give me when I finally get back.'

"Vegeta, my boy, are you alright? You look a little pale."

Dr. Brief felt like the boy's obsidian eyes were boring holes through his heart when he lifted his gaze. He had never seen so much helplessness and despair in his life. He had never seen someone look so utterly _broken._ But why did he see it in Vegeta? Why at that moment?

"I'm fine," Vegeta muttered. He sighed and pushed his half-eaten breakfast away and rose to his feet.

"Are you sure, sweetie?" Mrs. Brief asked. She saw the same look in the boy's eyes that her husband did. It was haunting.

Vegeta nodded as he walked across the kitchen to leave. He'd spent months working on his damned space pod and then the idiot humans up and took it from him before he could even get it functioning properly! He knew he would ordinarily be seething with fury, but at the moment all he could feel was the numbness that resulted from a pure lack of hope. He was really going to die when this was all said and done. He was going to be killed before he was ever given the chance to become strong enough to save himself and his comrades and avenge his race. There was no doubt in his mind that the humans sealed his fate.

"Maybe you should go rest awhile," the blonde woman said. "Go sit in the living room and I'll bring you something to drink."

"Hn." He barely heard her suggestion as he walked out the door. His senses were fading as he retreated into the depths of his mind. It was safe there, unlike the universe he lived in. It was the only place he could find solace when everything else played against him.

Moving like a zombie he crossed the hall and went into the living room and threw himself down on the couch face down. 'I should have worked faster. I should have had it finished by now, but I wasted too much time. I allowed the girl to distract me too many times. I knew better. Damnit, I knew better, but I did it anyway!'

He was broken out of his thoughts when he felt someone gently shaking his shoulder. "Here you go, honey. I brought you some water. Are you sure you're feeling alright? You look like you might be getting sick."

Vegeta accepted the glass of water from Mrs. Brief and sat up to slowly nurse it. It wasn't helping anything but at least it took his mind off his predicament. "I'm fine," he repeated.

Mrs. Brief sat down on the couch next to him and ran her slender fingers through his thick mane of hair. "It's ok to tell me if something's wrong."

"You wouldn't understand," he murmured.

The blonde woman put her arm around his shoulders and pulled him to her chest in a comforting embrace. He found himself surrounded by her scent, the scent of cinnamon and sugar clinging to her clothes. "I know I might not be as smart as my husband and Bulma," she said firmly, "but give me some credit. I can tell something is bothering you, sweetie."

He shook his head, refusing to tell her. He felt her sigh as she accepted his refusal to speak and felt a twinge of guilt because he wasn't allowing her to offer comfort. Still, he didn't make any attempts to move away from her. He inhaled her scent and filed it away in his memory. He would always know her now. She was part of his pack, even if he couldn't stay with her forever.

They sat there quietly for a few minutes, Vegeta never removing himself from the arms of Mrs. Brief. She kept running her hand through his hair and didn't seem at all surprised when she heard the faint rumblings of his purr.

"Are you feeling better now, honey?"

"I told you I'm fine," Vegeta grumbled. Still, he made no move to get away from her. When she tried to gently move away he brought his arms around her and held on tightly. He hardly knew what he was doing; he just knew he didn't want her to leave him.

Mrs. Brief could feel her heart breaking for her young houseguest. She could take his callous attitude, the way he distanced himself from others, and his subtle insults. She understood that he was strong and independent for his age, and she respected that. What she couldn't stand was to see him feeling so lost that he would be reduced to clinging to her and burying his face in her bosom like a frightened child during a thunderstorm. Even worse was that she was unable to comfort him.

The loquacious blonde was at a rare loss for words as she held Vegeta. She rubbed his back and started humming a lullaby that always calmed Bulma when she was upset. She was torn between feeling pity for him and joy that he was finally opening up in some way to her. She wished it were on different terms, but she knew that he was a very troubled child and was likely going to be battling inner demons for quite a while. More than anything she hoped she and her family could help him defeat them.

Minutes ticked by as they sat in the living room. Time didn't matter to either of them, though. Vegeta was silent and unmoving unless Mrs. Brief shifted her position and he clung to her tighter. She was his grounding. As he lost himself in his inner turmoil she kept him from slipping into insanity. He wasn't going to let that safety leave him.

Mrs. Brief sighed and reached over to the table next to the couch and picked up the remote control. "Here, honey, why don't we watch some TV? That'll cheer you up."

She turned the television on and saw that it was on one of the major news stations. She knew most news was bad news, so she started to change the channel when Vegeta's hand shot out and gripped her wrist. "Leave it."

The woman shrugged and set the remote down. If he wanted to watch the news she wasn't going to stop him.

Vegeta originally hadn't been interested in watching any television. He never found it very amusing when Bulma roped him into watching it with her and the few times he sat down to watch it with the elder Briefs they were always watching either the news or weather reports, none of which concerned him. But this time he was interested because there on the screen he saw his own space pod with a horde of humans wearing white suits and gas masks surrounding it, presumably examining it for any signs of extraterrestrial life.

"Oh, my," Mrs. Brief said, "is that the alien thing in the paper?"

Vegeta could only nod. There, on international news, was his space pod. His only ticket off the mudball planet. Taken away from him. He snarled as he watched the humans inspecting what was his. What right did they have to go and take that? Didn't they have the sense to think he might still need it? The fools! They claimed anything they found as their own. Conflicting emotions started raging through him as he watched. Fury and shock. Depression, helplessness. He clenched his fists and tried to calm himself.

Mrs. Brief reached out to him, but this time he flinched away. "What's the matter, sweetie?"

Vegeta's tail – now bristled – uncoiled from his waist and beat against the couch. The only sound for a few minutes was the news in the background and the even rhythm of his tail smacking the furniture. Vegeta glared at the television while he took a deep breath and released it slowly. "What interest do they have in that thing?"

The blonde shrugged and turned her attention from Vegeta to the news report. "They probably want to hide it."

"What for?"

"The government doesn't want to scare people, so they cover up any signs of aliens."

Vegeta rolled his eyes. Stupid, naïve humans. Did they really think they were alone in the universe? How ridiculous. The universe was filled with hostility. He knew that better than anyone as both a victim and tool of that hostility. Were humans really willing to risk their own safety by denying the existence of extraterrestrial life instead of learning what they could to protect themselves if their pathetic little planet was ever invaded? Not that he believed they could come up with any weapons strong enough to defend themselves against Frieza's army.

He wondered how many other aliens ended up stranded on Earth because of the meddlesome humans. The way Mrs. Brief talked his space pod wasn't the first 'sign' of alien life. That revelation only served to make him more irritated with them. Weakling fools that the humans were, they were a devious lot.

"So they're going to waste the opportunity to learn from it?" Vegeta asked. He couldn't care less about the humans bettering their primitive technology by studying his pod, but he was starting to get an idea on how to get it back in his possession. The faint glimmer of hope was still there.

"I suppose so," Mrs. Brief answered. She crossed her legs and rested her elbow on her knee with her chin in her hand. "What a shame. I bet my husband could figure it out and replicate it. Imagine what we could do with that technology!"

Vegeta didn't care what they could do. "Isn't there any way he could obtain that thing and study it?"

Mrs. Brief tapped her chin with her finger as she thought. "We might be able to pay them off if we agree to keep it under wraps."

Vegeta sighed dramatically. "I doubt he'd think it's worth it."

"Nonsense!" Mrs. Brief exclaimed as she rose to her feet. "I'll go talk to him right now!"

The young saiyan sat, dumbfounded. His plan actually worked. He smirked as he listened to the continuing news story. If Dr. Brief had any influence at all in the world – and he did – then there was a good chance he could get his pod. There might also be the chance that the scientists at Capsule Corporation could finish the repairs for him. He hated to use the Briefs like that, but he had limited options. He couldn't let his only way off the planet slip from his grasp.

His eyes shifted to the door when he heard someone coming in. He saw the blue-haired girl, still wearing her pajamas and rubbing the last grains of sleep from her eyes. Seeing who it was, he turned back to the TV. His space pod was being taken out of the back of a large military vehicle into what appeared to be some sort of laboratory.

"What you watching?" Bulma asked as she sat down next to the flame-haired saiyan.

"News."

"That's boring."

"Hn."

Bulma read the headline scrawled across the screen and her jaw dropped. "Oh my Kami! Vegeta, is that a real alien spacecraft? There's no way! Aliens aren't real!"

Vegeta snorted as he tried not to laugh. 'Aliens aren't real? She's had one living in her home for almost five months. Apparently the government has done a good job of convincing people that things like this are all hoaxes.'

Bulma was abnormally quiet as she watched the news with Vegeta. She was fascinated by the prospect of superior alien technology. She was thinking along the same lines as her mother, imagining what would be possible to learn from it. She leaned forward, eyes locked on the television and hands on her knees.

"If that's real," she whispered to herself, "I've got to get my hands on it."

Vegeta quirked an eyebrow at her comment. Would she really be able to figure it out? Could she repair his pod as easily as she repaired his scouter? He knew she was a genius. She was imaginative and seemed to be able to figure out the function of about anything. She had already taught him more than he would have been able – or willing – to teach himself. He didn't really have the patience for it. Maybe the humans finding his pod was actually a blessing if Dr. Brief could acquire it from the government. They wouldn't know it was his and they would fix it for him. It all depended on if it ever got to Capsule Corporation.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when he heard Mrs. Brief running into the room giggling and clapping her hands. "Oh, this is so exciting! He's going to call the government and ask to pay for it. He has some powerful connections, it shouldn't be too long before it's ours!"

Bulma looked up at her mother. "What are you talking about, Mom?"

Mrs. Brief's persistent grin broadened as she pointed to the TV. "That, honey. Your father is trying to get it instead of letting it go to waste in an old government warehouse."

"Really?" Bulma jumped up and raised her fists in the air. "Alright! Dad is so awesome!"

Vegeta, after hearing the promising report, stopped listening to the Briefs and returned his attention to the TV. It would be his again. He was going to get it back. He watched with mild interest as the humans figured out how to open the hatch. He smirked when they jumped back as it opened as if expecting a little alien to leap out and rip their throats open. He supposed that wasn't so unreasonable. Had he been inside it, he may have done just that. Then one of the men got inside the pod to snoop around more.

When the camera zoomed in to show what the human was doing, Vegeta felt a surge of panic. The fool was tampering with the control board. He prayed to whatever deity would listen that his pod didn't have the safety mechanism in working order. He didn't know what all was working or not working at the time. He wished he had one of the newer models that he could use a remote to activate and bring to him, but he knew that would be useless as the pod was still not fully functional and the fuel line was currently disconnected.

He felt his heart stop when the worst thing that could possibly happen happened. The idiot human flipped the wrong switch, triggering the safety mechanism to prevent tampering or unauthorized use of the pod. It self-destructed in a small fireball. His rising hopes crashed to the ground. It was gone before he ever had the chance to get it back. He cursed his bad luck.

"What just happened?" Bulma shrieked when she saw the explosion.

Mrs. Brief put her hand over her mouth. "It – it exploded. Oh my."

Several men ran over with fire extinguishers to put out the flames. As the smoke cleared, the viewers could see a pile of mangled and twisted metal scattered around the area. There were no signs of the man who had been inside.

"It's gone?" Bulma muttered. "It's gone! No!"

Vegeta's eyes glazed over as he retreated into himself. Reality was too much to bear. He sat on the edge of the couch, completely rigid, staring at the TV without really seeing. Slowly, his hands clenched into fists as he stood. His tail dropped limply from his waist as he turned and strode out of the room without a word. He had nothing to say. His death sentence had just been issued. He was as good as dead.

"Vegeta? Honey? Don't worry, it'll be alright," Mrs. Brief said as he silently moved past her. She wasn't rewarded with any acknowledgement.

"What's wrong with him?" Bulma asked once he left the room.

Mrs. Brief shook her head sadly. "I think he really had his hopes set on us being able to get that thing. He must be terribly disappointed."

"Why would he have cared about it so much?" Bulma wondered aloud.

Vegeta went into his room and fell face down on his bed. He hoped he would suffocate in his pillow. His will to live went up in flames along with his space pod. It was gone as were his hopes of survival. He didn't move from his place for the rest of the day. He was glad he had the foresight to lock his door when Bulma and her mother periodically came to check up on him. He didn't want to be bothered by anyone. When his room was filled with the darkness of night he closed his eyes and forced himself to sleep. Any nightmare he could have would be a welcome reprieve from the horror of his present reality.

He slept fitfully that night. His mind was mucking through all his worst memories, bringing them to life as he slept. Each memory would play like a movie until it reached the point where he gratefully lost consciousness, then switched to the beginning of a new memory. Each subsequent scene of his past was worse than the last as the night dragged on. He tossed and turned until he was twisted up in his covers and coated in a layer of cold sweat. He fought and cried out in his sleep until the walls shook with his roars of pain and fury. With his imagined suffering his ki rose until a blazing aura surrounded him and objects levitated in his room.

Bulma woke when she heard the boy in the room next to hers screaming at the top of his lungs. She cringed and covered her ears before she noticed her room shaking. It didn't feel like any normal earthquake. She bounded out of bed and ran down the hall to Vegeta's room. She tried the knob, but it still wouldn't budge. She screamed and flew back into the wall behind her when a bolt of electricity shocked her through the doorknob.

Shaking the tingling out of her hand, she crawled to his door and started beating on it with her fists. "Vegeta! Vegeta, what's wrong? Let me in!"

She didn't hear her parents approaching over her own screams combined with Vegeta's agonized cries and the shattering of glass and objects crashing against the walls. She gasped when her father pushed her aside and tried his hand at turning the knob. He had as much luck as his daughter, so he started slamming his shoulder into the door in an effort to break it down.

Mrs. Brief rushed to her daughter and held her in her arms as she watched her husband trying to get into Vegeta's room. It was proving to be a difficult task. She was terrified with all the shaking, the noise, and the heat she could feel coming from behind the door. If she hadn't known any better, she might have thought there was a fire in Vegeta's room. But she had a feeling that wasn't the case. The problem was with Vegeta. She could hear his screams and winced whenever his voice broke into sobs.

"Mom, what's going on?" Bulma squeaked.

"I don't know, honey. It'll be ok though. Don't worry." She shrieked when she heard the door breaking and a gust of wind blew through the hall, knocking them to the floor and tearing the decorations off the walls.

Despite the obvious danger, Bulma scrambled to her feet as soon as the door was open and ran into Vegeta's room. She gasped when she saw him lying on the floor with a strange, ethereal light seeming to come from his body. She ran over to him and knelt down next to him, wary about touching him as she remembered what happened last time he was having a bad dream when she woke him up. As close as she was to him, she could feel heat coming off him in waves. She felt like her skin was burning as she reached out to him.

"Vegeta? Are you awake? Vegeta, what's wrong?"

She jerked her hand away from him as soon as she touched him. She knew she was burned that time. She hissed in pain before sticking her finger in her mouth. So she couldn't touch him and she still wasn't sure if he was awake or not. At her touch, brief though it was, he curled into a tight, trembling ball. She was at a loss for how to get through to him. She couldn't touch him and he didn't seem to hear her.

Bulma dropped to the floor and covered her head when she heard the glass of the balcony doors shattering. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she cautiously raised her head to peek at the boy next to her. He hadn't moved at all. 'I've got to help him. I don't care what happens.'

Taking a deep breath, the blue-haired girl threw herself at her friend and wrapped her arms around him. The heat of his body was painful, but she held on valiantly.

"Vegeta!" she screamed, "You have to wake up!"

"Let go of me!"

Bulma gaped at him in shock, not sure if he was really addressing her or someone in his hellish dream. "No."

"I said let go!" Vegeta broke free of her embrace and shot across the room. He slid down the wall and huddled in the corner.

The girl frowned and stood up, her blue hair whipping around in the hurricane-like winds. She forced one foot in front of the other over and over until she had marched to where the saiyan was curled on the floor. She was beyond terrified of what was going on in the room, but she didn't let that bother her as she knelt down in front of him and drew her hand back.

"I'm sorry, Veggie, but I have to do this." She clenched her hand into a fist and threw it forward. Surprisingly, he didn't block or dodge, so her punch hit him in the intended target: his right eye. She barely had time to retract her arm before his eyes opened and she was met with a pair of blazing obsidian eyes giving her a gut-wrenching death glare.

"What the hell was that for?" he yelled when he saw who his assailant was.

The winds, which Bulma had hoped would die down when he woke, only grew stronger as his anger deepened. Her punch wasn't _that_ painful, but her audacity and betrayal were more than he was willing to endure. No one attacked the Prince of all Saiyans when he was asleep! Especially not some weakling girl from a backwater planet. He snarled at her, his long canines seeming to glow with the rest of his body as he smoothly raised himself to his feet.

"This!" she screamed in defense, waving her arms around to indicate the chaos in his guest room. "I did it because of this!"

Vegeta's dark gaze, to her relief, turned from her and scanned the room. It was night, but there was a blue light illuminating the room. He immediately realized it was his aura. That also explained how it was that furniture was defying gravity and why there were great gusts of wind blowing _out_ the broken balcony doors. Remedying his mistake, Vegeta fought to regain control of his power, containing it within himself until his aura died out and everything in his room crashed down on the floor.

He looked down at the girl who was still kneeling on the floor in front of him. Her face was in her hands and her body was shaking. He caught the scent of tears and managed to refrain from rolling his eyes. They were engulfed in darkness again since he had extinguished the source of artificial light that had been present moments before.

His tail fell from his waist and coiled around Bulma's wrist and pulled her to her feet. She hardly noticed as she fell against his chest and buried her face in the crook of his neck, still crying. He was no longer too hot to touch, but her skin felt like it was still burning. It was horribly painful, which was in part why she was crying. Vegeta wrapped one arm around her waist to keep her from falling back down on the floor when her knees buckled.

"Girl, what is wrong with you? You're fine."

Before she could answer he directed his attention to the door to his room where Dr. and Mrs. Brief were standing, watching the scene play out before them. Their hair was mussed from the wind, but they were in otherwise good condition. Vegeta was relieved that he hadn't inadvertently hurt them while he wasn't aware of himself.

"It hurts," Bulma whimpered. "When I touched you, it burned."

Vegeta sighed and held her shoulders as he pushed her away from him. "Let me see your hands."

She wiped the tears streaking her face before holding her hands out, palms up, for him to see. She flinched when he took her hands in his own, half expecting his skin to be burning hot again. They were warm, as usual, but not anything out of the ordinary. He turned her hands over in his, then lifted one to his nose and sniffed her palm. There was a faint scent of dead, burned flesh, but nothing too serious. It was minor. Even after his assessment of the state of her skin, he continued sniffing her palm and wrist, learning her unique scent. He knew her scent would change a little over time because she was still a child, but he would still be able to recognize it when she was an adult if he cared to. It smelled faintly of strawberries ripened in the sun with an underlying saltiness that was a perfect combination of the old man and the crazy blonde woman.

He must have spent too much time memorizing her scent because Bulma started giggling and pulled her hand away. "What're you doing? Am I going to live, doctor?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "You're fine. You can stop whining."

Bulma huffed and put her hands on her hips. "Fine. So would you mind telling me exactly what the heck happened in here?"

"Yes."

She took a step closer to him, effectively keeping him from escaping without going through her. It wasn't that she didn't think he could, but she didn't think he would. She knit her brows and tapped her toes as she waited for a decent answer to her question. He was stubborn, but so was she. And right now she was determined to get answers. What happened wasn't natural. There had to be some reasonable explanation for it.

The quiet room resonated with the sound of his low warning growl. Vegeta didn't like her getting in his face like she was. He had no desire to explain how his room was turned into a disaster zone. Bulma could feel the vibrations of his growl moving through her body and shuddered. Still, she wasn't giving up because of a little intimidation.

Hearing the growl and seeing the furious expression on Vegeta's face, Dr. Brief rushed over to his daughter and pulled her away from the boy. "Now, now, dear. You can ask as many questions as you'd like tomorrow. Why don't you go back to bed and get some rest?"

Despite her protests, he guided his daughter out of Vegeta's guestroom and returned her to her own bedroom. He tucked her into bed and kissed her cheek before going back to the room where Vegeta and his wife were still standing. His wife was distraught about the sad state of the room, but that was the least of his concerns. Like his daughter, he was curious about what went on to make such strange events unfold, but he was willing to wait until the boy was in a somewhat better mood before he started asking questions.

"Come with me, son," Dr. Brief said gently, putting his arm around Vegeta's shoulders as he started walking out of the room. "You can stay in another guestroom until this one is cleaned up a bit."

Vegeta shook his head once they were in the hall. He moved out of Dr. Brief's reach and started for the stairs. "Don't bother. I don't need to sleep anymore tonight anyway." It was, in reality, two hours before he usually got up, but he had no desire to return to sleep. He was wrong when he thought reality was worse than his dreams. They only served to remind him of what he already had to live through and he knew that was nothing in comparison to what he could expect once he got back to the lizard. And in his dreams, he couldn't even disconnect his mind from his body as he was brutally beaten. He was painfully aware of every single blow as they landed on his battered body.

The scientist and his wife watched as the boy descended the stairs and turned the corner to go in the direction of the indoor garden. Seeing he had no interest in getting more sleep, they turned and went back to bed. Dr. Brief was concerned about what he witnessed; he knew the things that he saw were directly related to something Vegeta was doing, but he had no idea what it was or how to explain it. Mrs. Brief, on the other hand, wasn't thinking at all about the outward manifestation of Vegeta's pain. All she could think about was how to help the troubled boy so he wouldn't have such awful nightmares. She had never seen or heard anything as heartbreaking as Vegeta roaring in pain and running from her daughter's gentle touch.

Bulma laid in bed for a long time, unable to sleep. She rolled over at least fifty times trying to find a comfortable position, but she simply wasn't tired anymore. Well, her body was but her mind was completely awake and refused to sink into the sweet oblivion of sleep. With a frustrated sigh she kicked her blankets off and walked out of her room. She walked down the hall past Vegeta's room and saw that he wasn't inside. Shrugging, she continued through the hall and went downstairs to find something to occupy her mind until she would inevitably get tired enough to sleep again.

It was frustrating for her; she'd slept the whole night until Vegeta woke her up. She didn't blame him, but it was still aggravating to have a good night's sleep interrupted after being plagued with nightmares for the past few weeks. She supposed it was justice that she was woken up by his screams when she had been waking him up numerous times over the past two weeks.

The blue-haired girl shuffled through the halls of the compound until she reached the indoor garden. She pushed the doors open and went inside, not expecting to find anyone else in there. She was startled when she saw a bright flash of light and then Vegeta crashed into the ground a few feet from her. She screeched and backpedaled away from him. She watched in awe as he pushed himself up on his hands and knees and shook his daze from his head, then rose to his feet and dusted himself off. She wasn't sure he heard her or knew she was there until his onyx eyes locked on her.

"H – Hey, Veggie. What're you doing here this time of night?"

He snorted. "I could ask you the same thing, girl."

"Oh. Right. Are you ok?"

"I'm fine."

"I couldn't sleep."

"Hn."

"What's your excuse?"

"Training."

She supposed that explained why his body just went careening through the air and landed roughly on the ground. How he didn't seem to be fazed by that was unfathomable. She would have been crying, but he shook it off as if it were nothing. She knew he was strong, but sometimes she thought he was indestructible. It was inhuman.

"Can I watch?"

"No."

Bulma frowned. "Why not? Maybe I could learn something by watching you train."

"I doubt that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"You couldn't see anything anyway. Go back to bed, girl."

"What's the real reason you don't want me here?"

Vegeta pinched the bridge of his nose and walked away from her. His tail flicked behind him as he left her behind. Her questions never ceased. He had to get away from her before he lost control of himself and did something he would regret. Like killing her.

"Vegeta! Come on, what's the deal?" she called after him.

He spun around on his heel and snarled at her. "I want to be left alone!"

Bulma took a step back and crossed her arms over her chest. She couldn't bring herself to make eye contact with him before he whirled around and disappeared into the trees. She knew there was something big eating at him, but there was probably no way to get him to tell her about it. She yawned and walked out of the garden. If he didn't want her in there then she would respect his wishes for the time being. She had plenty of time to pester him in the morning. She went upstairs to her room and collapsed on her bed. She stared up at the ceiling and didn't fall asleep until the first light of dawn was streaking in through her balcony doors.

_A/N: Well, it looks like Vegeta is stranded on Earth after all. So he's going to have to wait for the team Frieza sent to get him, right? Not good. So I really need to hurry up and get writing more. I'm working on chapter 33 now and it's taking me forever. I hit a bit of a roadblock in my writing that took me forever to work through. Oh well. Thanks for all the reviews! Keep them coming, please?_


	20. Beaten

Beaten

The long-haired saiyan fell to the floor, barely able to catch himself before his face met the cold metal. His breathing was ragged as he tried to push himself back to his feet, but he was dizzy from blood loss and he was sure half the bones in his body were snapped like twigs. His companion wasn't in much better condition at his side. They were left to their own devices to make it to the medical ward after their most recent punishment for their prince's continued absence.

"I don't think I can take much more of this," he croaked through his dry throat. He winced in pain and panted for breath.

Nappa hauled Raditz to his feet as he stepped past him. He was thinking the same thing as the third-class saiyan, but he wasn't going to say it out loud. He knew the only thing keeping them going was pride. It wasn't much to hold onto when it was beaten out of them daily by the lizard. If they weren't sent on a new purge mission soon they might not survive much longer. The beatings were getting worse as Frieza's anger rose.

"We have to take it," Nappa reminded him. "We don't have a choice. And we can't be dead when Vegeta returns."

Raditz staggered forward a few steps before stopping to take a breather. One of his lungs was definitely out of commission. He couldn't seem to get enough air. "What good will it do? We can't save him."

The tall, bald saiyan hacked up a glob of bloody phlegm and spit it out on the floor. They were leaving a trail of blood behind them anyway. He sighed and pushed Raditz forward to continue their long trek to the medical ward. "Maybe not, but we can keep him alive after Frieza's done with him. And then, we'll make sure his pride doesn't die."

It was the same thing he'd been telling Raditz for the past six months. It was their duty to their prince to make sure he didn't lose hope. To make sure he held onto his pride even when everything else was torn from him. He would rise and avenge the saiyans for the sake of pride. He had to. No one else could.

"What if… what if…" Raditz hunched over with his hands on his knees, gasping for breath. He shook his head, giving up on speaking. He opened his mental link with Nappa. _'What if Frieza kills us before he gets back? We come closer to death every day.'_

_ 'We won't die!'_ Nappa's voice growled back. _'We're saiyans, or have you forgotten that? It will take more than a few punches from that sadistic bastard to kill us.'_

Raditz rolled his eyes. It didn't matter what they were, they were weaker than Frieza and he was grinding them into the dust under his foot. There they were, in the corridor of the ship, barely clinging to life as they practically crawled to the medical ward, and Nappa was telling him they would survive because they were _saiyans_? It was because they were saiyans that they were on the brink of death! Frieza hated them for what they were and it was because they were Vegeta's subjects that they were being punished for the fact that he wasn't there. He didn't wish his punishment on the prince, but he did wish it would stop. There was nothing he or Nappa could do to make Vegeta come back any sooner. It still infuriated him to think that Frieza knew where Vegeta was and that he sent a rescue team to get him – from a planet a year away! If he wanted Vegeta back so bad, then why hadn't he sent a team from a closer planet? It made no sense. Obviously it was for the sake of an excuse to nearly kill the saiyans over and over. And when Vegeta was brought back… Raditz couldn't stand to imagine what would be his fate.

_'We're not even getting much stronger from all this,' _he reminded the elite warrior. _'Frieza makes sure we don't get enough food and training for this to have any benefits for us.'_

_ 'I know that.'_

When they finally reached the medical ward they were immediately rushed to the regeneration tanks to recover. The two saiyans slipped into blissful oblivion when they lost consciousness as their bodies healed from the latest round of torture.

It took nearly two full days for them to heal completely. When their healing was complete, they got out of the tanks and pulled on their armor, which had certainly seen better days. Their chest plates were cracked and broken, providing little to no protection in a fight.

"We've got to get new armor," Raditz grumbled as he pulled his armor over his head.

Nappa grunted. His armor was in even worse shape than the third-class warrior's. Still, he wasn't a fan of the idea of asking 'Lord Frieza' for a new set of armor. He knew the lizard took sadistic pleasure in seeing them vulnerable and knowing they sustained additional injuries on their missions because of their lack of protection. Anything that humiliated them made him happier. Sometimes he wondered why Frieza didn't get it over with and finish them off. He hated them, that much was obvious. He only kept them around to use as living punching bags.

The door to the medical ward opened and a bright pink behemoth stepped in, breathing heavily from the exertion of walking through the corridors of the ship. He had spikes covering his head and forearms. The disgusting tub-of-lard Dodoria, one of Frieza's elite soldiers. Nappa and Raditz grimaced when they saw him and caught a whiff of his rancid stench.

After catching his breath, Dodoria turned to the saiyans and smirked. "Lord Frieza requests an audience with you monkeys at once."

Raditz groaned and Nappa pinched the bridge of his nose. They knew what kind of 'audience' the lizard wanted with them. He probably heard the news as soon as they were released from the regeneration tanks and now he was going to beat them half to death again. It was a never-ending cycle of beatings and healings. They were being weakened by it, never given the chance to rest and eat in the routine. It seemed Frieza found a way to effectively bypass the advantage of their unique physiology.

Rather than delaying the inevitable, the two saiyans headed for Frieza's throne room for another round of punishment for something that wasn't their fault. This had been going on for weeks. After they inadvertently poisoned themselves, they weren't sent on any more purge missions. Frieza used the excuse that without their prince they were too stupid to do it without getting themselves killed and slowing down his planet trade business. That left them on Frieza's ship, readily accessible whenever Frieza was in a bad mood and needed someone to take his ire out on. Unfortunately for them, they were the most durable bodies on the ship.

"How bad do you think this one is going to be?" Raditz asked under his breath so only Nappa could hear his question.

Nappa's eyes shifted to the long-haired saiyan and then back to the pink blob walking in front of them. He didn't want to answer. He knew as well as Raditz that the severity of their beatings was unpredictable. Sometimes it was little more than a couple broken bones and sometimes their battered bodies had to be dragged to the medical ward by mere foot soldiers.

They followed Dodoria into the throne room and knelt in front of the lizard. It was a long while before the tyrant addressed them.

"Ah, my monkeys are all better now."

"Yes, Lord Frieza," Nappa confirmed. His hands clenched into fists as he prepared himself for the pain of a blow too fast to see. But none came. He peeked up at the lizard who was looking down on him with a cruel smirk.

"I have received word that your pathetic little prince is trying to repair his space pod so he can hurry back."

Raditz, too, looked up when he heard this. They stared at Frieza, at a loss for words. They had no idea how to respond or what to expect from him. Playing it safe, they said nothing.

"What? Aren't you glad to hear your _prince_ is still alive and well?" Frieza asked, feigning shock that they didn't act more enthusiastic.

"Yes, Lord Frieza," Nappa mumbled. He looked down at the floor again.

Frieza rose from his throne and started circling around the kneeling saiyans. His tail lashed behind him as he watched them with wicked glee. These saiyans might be proud, but their pride was so easily broken down compared to Vegeta. He stopped circling when he stood in front of them again.

"Too bad that doesn't save you," he hissed before he kicked Nappa's chin, snapping his head back and throwing him into the wall at the other end of the room. He turned to Raditz and kicked him to the ground and stepped on his tail, earning a roar of agony from the saiyan. And so began another pointless, unfair beating of the saiyans.

_A/N: And there's your update on the lives of Raditz and Nappa... we're moving on to my favorite part of the story so far. I'm pretty excited about it. Hope you are too. It's going to get fun for a couple chapters. :)_


	21. Appointment

Appointment

He couldn't believe what they were suggesting. As if he would ever willingly lower himself to do such a thing. He tried protesting and gave some very convincing arguments in his favor, but they were utterly immune to them, as if they somehow had practice in building up resistance and counterarguments to his appeals. It seemed like a battle he could not win. Unless he were to leave them again, there was no way out of it. He was going to have to go.

On the bright side, they had refrained – so far – from asking about the incident the night before. For that he was certainly grateful, but in some way he almost would have preferred discussing that over hearing what they told him when he sat down to eat breakfast.

He made a valiant effort to save himself from his humiliating fate. He reminded them that he basically had no identity for one thing. They assured him they could "create" proper documents. He told them he didn't need to go. They told him it was necessary for all children. He told them he didn't want to go. They told him that was irrelevant. He told them he'd never gone before. They told him now was a good time to start. They were unshakable in their resolve.

He could have made his protests physical. If they were in another dimension they couldn't make him do it. Unfortunately for him, he couldn't have lived with himself if he sent them on a one-way trip to Otherworld. He also didn't want to leave them again. Not before he had to. He knew he would have no allies in this battle of wills. He was defeated. The Prince of all Saiyans, defeated by two weakling humans. Pathetic.

"We've already made you an appointment," Mrs. Brief informed him.

Vegeta glowered at her. "Were you ever planning on telling me about this beforehand to get my opinion?"

"Of course not, son." Dr. Brief chuckled as he turned the page of his newspaper. "We already knew you wouldn't want to go."

"And you still make me do it?"

"You need to go, Vegeta. Don't worry, it's really not so bad."

"I'm not worried."

"Good. Then go out to the car, young man," Mrs. Brief said.

Vegeta growled as he stalked out of the compound and went to the car that was waiting in the driveway. His tail tightened around his waist as he closed the car door. He could feel his face burning with a deep blush. At least the girl wasn't awake yet to see his embarrassment.

His wave of relief was cut short when he saw a crown of sky blue hair dashing across the front yard to the car. He started beating his head against the dashboard until it cracked. He heard the car door on the driver's side open and shut before he heard the cheerful greeting that grated on his nerves more than usual.

"Morning, Veggie! Mom said I could come with you."

"Great."

That was when Mrs. Brief got in the car and started the engine. "Now Vegeta, don't be so grumpy. And don't forget to buckle your seatbelt."

He sneered and looked out the window as he grudgingly put on his seatbelt. Don't be grumpy? He was livid. Not only was he being forced into going to this "appointment," but he wasn't even given the dignity of going alone.

"You can trust him," Mrs. Brief said as she pulled out of the driveway. "You know that."

"Hn."

"Yeah, you don't have to be scared, Veggie. He isn't going to hurt you," Bulma added from the backseat.

"Why are you even here?" he hissed.

Bulma smiled at him sweetly. "I wanted to be there for you when you freak out."

"I will _not_ 'freak' out."

"I bet you will."

"Stupid girl."

"Now children," Mrs. Brief interjected, "don't argue."

Vegeta and Bulma both rolled their eyes. If they didn't argue then at least half of their communication would be cut off. Vegeta didn't mind at that moment, but he didn't like being told what to do. Not when he was already feeling bitter about being forced into something he didn't want or need to do. Regardless, the rest of the car ride passed in silence. More than once Vegeta considered jumping out and making a break for it, but he refrained. He wasn't willing to further humiliate himself and prove the girl right by 'freaking out.'

"Here we are," Mrs. Brief announced when she parked next to a small white brick building. Vegeta recognized it, having been there once before, though not for an appointment for him.

Vegeta was the last one to get out of the car. He slammed the door closed and crossed his arms over his chest before following the females into the dreaded building. By the time he walked through the door, his tail had unwrapped from his waist and coiled tightly around his leg. He cringed as he sat down in one of the uncomfortable chairs while Mrs. Brief went to the desk to get some paperwork.

Bulma sat down next to Vegeta and picked up a magazine from the table in front of them. She started flipping through the pages, not at all interested in any of the articles. She stopped when she heard Vegeta muttering something under his breath. Straining her ears to hear him clearly, she realized he was repeating some phrase in his guttural language.

"Vegeta, seriously, it's going to be ok."

Her cheerfulness was crushed under the weight of his gaze. She smiled nervously and shrugged. She hadn't seen him so tense in a long time. She hoped he wouldn't snap and hurt someone.

Several minutes went by before Mrs. Brief came over and sat on the other side of Vegeta. The paperwork was complete and now they just had to wait. Vegeta couldn't help but feel caged in with the Briefs on either side of him. He believed that if he were to make a move to escape they would grab hold of him and prevent him from leaving. He was going to have to go through with this whether he liked it or not, that much was obvious.

If he wasn't anxious before, he was after they repeatedly tried to calm him down. If they thought it was so necessary to make him stop worrying, then he had every reason to believe there actually was something to be worried about. Something highly unpleasant. He swallowed hard and tried to take his mind off his impending torture session. If humans underwent this procedure on a regular basis, then he could too. It wasn't going to kill him. Still, that didn't mean he was going to enjoy it in the least. He didn't trust that type of person. All the experiences he ever had with them were rather traumatic.

Vegeta nearly shot through the roof when a short, rotund woman wearing matching white pants and shirt opened a door and called out, "Vegeta Brief."

'Brief?' he wondered. 'Since when have I taken on their human name?' Shrugging it off he stood up when he saw Bulma and Mrs. Brief standing and followed them over to the unknown woman.

"Hi, there," she said, holding her hand out to him when he approached. "You must be Vegeta. My name is Vicki."

He was going to ignore her hand as he always did when someone made introductions, but he was caught off guard enough by Bulma's elbow in his ribs to cave and shake the woman's hand. He pulled his hand away quickly and wiped his palm on the back of his pants as he followed her through the door with the Briefs flanking him.

"Alright, Vegeta," Vicki said as she led him into a small, white room. "I'll need you to take your shoes off and step onto the scale."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow and looked up at Mrs. Brief as if seeking guidance on what he should do. He was sure 'Vicki' was out of her mind. Why would he want to take his shoes off? Why would he want to step on a scale? He wasn't meat to be weighed at a market. He sighed when the blonde woman smiled at him and gently pushed him toward the scale. Apparently it was a normal routine.

He kicked his shoes off and stepped onto the scale. He didn't like the way it rocked back and forth under his weight. His tail bristled slightly.

"Ok, let's see," Vicki mumbled to herself as she started sliding small pieces of metal across a bar. "That's strange."

"What?"

"I'm not sure the scale is right. There's no way you could weigh that much, honey."

Vegeta wondered why human females seemed to like calling him bee vomit so much. Wasn't that a type of food? Maybe he was more accurate in thinking he was being weighed like meat than he wanted to believe. He sighed again. "How much does it say I weigh?"

Vicki frowned and continued moving the small pieces of metal back and forth, but she kept coming to the same conclusion. "It says you weigh 142 pounds."

He mentally converted that to the saiyan weight system and guessed what was average for a male saiyan his age. "That seems low."

Vegeta knew he wasn't a big saiyan. Raditz and Nappa sometimes teased him about his small stature even though he wasn't fully grown yet. Either his body was taking its sweet time or it was growing normally and he simply wasn't genetically designed to get very tall. He remembered that his mother wasn't a very large saiyan either, but he always assumed that was because she was a female. He didn't really remember any other female saiyans to compare her to. Still, hearing he was only 142 pounds, or 16.4 tobs was frustrating to him. Maybe he was behind in growth because he had been starved so often. Saiyans his age should have been at least 18 tobs.

"Low? Honey, I don't think you know what's average for your age. The upper limit for an 11 year-old is usually 125 pounds."

'For humans,' he thought.

"Well, let's check your height anyway." Vicki directed him to step off the scale and stand with his back against the wall. He growled when he felt her trying to push his hair out of the way. It wasn't the most enjoyable sensation and he didn't appreciate it. Across the room he could hear the Briefs giggling as the woman tried to accurately measure his height. "Hm, only 53 inches."

"That's it?" he asked, more to himself than anyone else in the room. His shoulders sagged with disappointment. He knew he had been growing rapidly during his stay on Earth, but he was still horribly short.

Vicki smiled at him and gestured for him to follow her out of the small room. "It's alright, Vegeta. A lot of boys don't hit their growth spurt for a couple more years. Then I'm sure you'll get a lot taller."

Vegeta took no solace from her assurance. She was telling him what was average for a human male. He was a saiyan. He should have been much taller than he already was. Even if he had started to speed up in growth now, he was afraid it wasn't going to be enough to make up for lost time. It was likely his body had spent so much energy healing injuries that his growth was stunted. He was damned to be a small saiyan. He was still the most powerful, but it was irritating to constantly be underestimated because of his size.

They walked down a short hallway and Vicki took them into another room, slightly larger, that had a strange bed in the middle. "Sit down here," she told Vegeta, pointing at the bed as she went across the room to wash her hands.

He snarled a little and hopped up onto the bed. His snarl grew when the paper on the bed made annoying crackling noises as he shifted into a comfortable position. Mrs. Brief and Bulma went to the corner of the room and sat in two empty chairs. He didn't want either of them around. They were the cause of his current situation.

"Open your mouth," Vicki told Vegeta when she walked back over to him.

"Are you cra—" Before he could finish telling her off she stuck a thermometer under his tongue.

"Keep that there for a minute," she told him, never batting an eye as he fixed a threatening glare on her.

He considered spitting the thermometer out. He didn't want that thing in his mouth. It was stabbing his tongue and he didn't like it. Besides, she never explained what the purpose of the device was. If there was one thing he hated, it was people sticking things in him without telling him why. He already had issues trusting anyone, but this Vicki person was really trying his patience. Still, he wanted this appointment thing to be over as soon as possible, so he left the thermometer in his mouth for the sake of getting it over with quickly.

A minute later Vicki pulled the thermometer out from under his tongue and held it up to see what temperature it read. Her eyes widened when she saw the number. "Oh no, this isn't good. Vegeta, are you sure you're feeling alright?"

He scowled at her. "Of course I feel alright."

She shook her head slowly. The temperature the thermometer was reading had to be incorrect. If it wasn't, it was a miracle he was alive, much less conscious and so healthy-looking. "But – but this says your temperature is 106.4."

"So?"

"Oh my," Mrs. Brief said when she heard what Vicki said, "That's an awful high fever!"

Bulma was the only one aside from Vegeta who wasn't terribly surprised. She hadn't expected his temperature to be quite that high, but she knew from touching him that he had an abnormally high temperature on a regular basis. He was as healthy as a horse. It wasn't a fever. He just happened to have a freakishly high average temperature.

"I'm not sick," he growled. "Would you hurry up and finish this stupid procedure?"

Vicki, now thoroughly flustered, nodded and put the blood pressure cuff around his arm. The growl that was already growing in his chest became more audible as she pumped it up until the blood flow was cut off in his arm. What strange form of torture _was_ this? She put the stethoscope on his arm below the cuff and slowly released the air so his blood could rush freely through his veins again.

"Well, that's good at least," she murmured as she wrote some numbers down on a piece of paper.

By now Vegeta was ready to be done. He didn't care what else was supposed to happen, he'd had enough of it. His arm felt tingly from lack of circulation. He moved to slide off the bed, but he was stopped when Vicki rested her hand on his shoulder.

"We're not quite finished yet, Vegeta," she told him sweetly.

He groaned and rolled his eyes. If it weren't for Mrs. Brief and her daughter sitting in the same room, he probably would have blasted Vicki into another dimension. But, they were there and so he had no choice but to endure whatever other strange tests she did on him.

"Ok, I'm going to go get the doctor," she said as she hastily left the room. She was still worried about the boy. He looked healthy as could be, but his temperature was so high he should be dead. That just wasn't normal.

"Well that was fun," Vegeta grumbled. "Can we go now?"

Mrs. Brief giggled and shook her head. "No, dear, you haven't even seen the doctor yet! He has to come and check a few more things before you're done."

"I don't want to see the doctor."

"It's not so bad, sweetie."

Vegeta pinched the bridge of his nose. They kept telling him it wasn't so bad, but he knew it _was_ so bad if they told him over and over that it wasn't. Besides, he'd already had a taste of what was to come and he hated it. He liked his circulation to be uninterrupted, thank you very much. He could only imagine what was to come if the doctor was needed for it.

"Yeah, Veggie," Bulma said, "The worst he'll do is give you a shot or something."

"A shot?" Vegeta didn't like the sound of that. Either the doctor was going to give him some hard liquor or he was going to do something highly unpleasant.

Bulma shrugged. "Yeah, you know, an injection. Immunization."

"Oh hell no." Vegeta was done messing around. He wasn't letting anyone inject any foreign substance into his body. That never went well. He slid off the bed and marched over to the door intent on leaving with or without permission from the blonde woman.

"Vegeta," Mrs. Brief said firmly. "Sit down, mister."

'This is absurd!' his mind cried as he trudged back to the bed to sit down on the crinkled, crackling paper. 'I am the Prince of all Saiyans. I won't be bossed around by these ridiculous humans!' Despite what his mind said, his body obeyed.

They waited a few more minutes before a man who Vegeta had seen once before walked into the room. He was wearing khaki slacks and a white coat over a green shirt. He had a stethoscope hanging around his neck and there was a clipboard tucked under his left arm.

"Hello, Vegeta," the man said as he held out his hand. "I believe we've met once before. I'm Dr. Nienstedt."

"What a pleasure," Vegeta said, voice dripping with sarcasm as he reluctantly took the doctor's hand and gave it a firm shake. He smirked when he saw the doctor's wince of pain.

Dr. Nienstedt coughed and shook the pain out of his hand. "Vicki told me your temperature is high. Do you feel ok? You're not nauseous, don't have a headache, nothing?"

"No."

The doctor nodded and wrote something on the clipboard. Vegeta wanted to know what he was writing. He thought he had a right to know. It _was_ about him, after all. He would have to inquire about that later. In the meantime, he wanted to get this appointment business done.

"Ok, I'm going to check your lungs now," Dr. Nienstedt said. He stepped over to Vegeta and placed the stethoscope on Vegeta's back. "Take a deep breath."

Vegeta growled audibly, not knowing how much it hurt the doctor's ears when he put the earpieces in. Had he known, he would have growled louder. Still, he inhaled deeply as the doctor told him to do.

"And release it," Dr. Nienstedt ordered.

'What the hell is the point of this?' Vegeta wondered as he slowly exhaled.

"And another breath."

The process was repeated again with less growling the second time. The doctor didn't ask Vegeta to do it again. Instead he wrote more down on the clipboard and then stepped in front of Vegeta and pressed the diaphragm of the stethoscope on his chest to listen to his heartbeat. He didn't give any more orders, so Vegeta figured he didn't have to do anything special for this part. He frowned and waited for the doctor to finish what he was doing.

"That's a strong heartbeat," Dr. Nienstedt complimented the saiyan boy. He smiled and went to the counter next to the sink and pulled a small piece of wood out of a jar and went back over to Vegeta. "Say 'ah.'"

Vegeta quirked an eyebrow. "Ah."

He found himself once again with an unwelcome object in his mouth, only this time it was on top of his tongue pushing it down. He could see the doctor holding something else in his right hand while he held the tongue depressor with his left. He tried to move away.

"Just relax, son," the doctor mumbled.

Vegeta wondered how relaxed the doctor would be when he was on the receiving end of a ki blast. He shoved that thought aside and forced himself to stay still so the doctor could finish looking down his throat.

Dr. Nienstedt threw the tongue depressor in a red trash can with 'BIOHAZARD' printed on it. He turned around and put his hands on the sides of Vegeta's neck. He didn't get much further in his examination before he was abruptly pinned against the wall by a very angry young saiyan.

"What the hell are you doing?" Vegeta shouted.

"Vegeta! Calm down!" Bulma hissed as she stood up and pushed him away from the doctor. "What's your problem?"

"No one touches my neck," he grumbled.

Bulma put one hand on her hip and pointed to the bed with her other hand. "Get back over there and let him finish the exam. He isn't going to hurt you. I told you you'd freak out."

He bared his teeth at her as he strode over to the table, tail lashing angrily behind him. He hopped up onto the bed and sat with his arms crossed over his chest, his face now contorted in a furious scowl.

The doctor, visibly shaken, smoothed out his rumpled coat and cautiously approached the volatile boy. "Well, at least we know you have fast reflexes," he joked.

"Hn."

Somewhat hesitantly, Dr. Nienstedt put his hands on Vegeta's neck again to check his lymph nodes to make sure they weren't swollen to indicate illness. As soon as he was sure they were normal he moved his hands away from the boy's neck.

"Now I need you to look at my finger," the doctor said as he held up his index finger.

Vegeta locked his eyes on the finger, but when a light shone in his left eye he flinched and closed his eyes. He could see spots in the darkness.

"You need to keep your eyes open."

Vegeta cracked his eyes open and shot the doctor a withering glare before fixing his gaze on the man's finger again.

"Are you trying to blind me?" Vegeta groused as the doctor continued shining the light in his eyes.

"No, Vegeta. I'm checking your eyes. Now follow my finger with your eyes." Dr. Neinstedt moved his finger around for a few seconds before drawing the conclusion that the saiyan's eyes were fine. "Looks good. Let's make sure your ears are good too."

Vegeta balked at that. If the doctor was going to test his ears in the same manner he tested his eyes, he wanted nothing to do with it. He was still seeing spots. He didn't need his ears ringing too. "No way. My ears are fine."

"I need to make sure."

"I suggest you take my word for it."

Dr. Nienstedt sighed. "Vegeta, I'm simply going to take a look at them."

The young saiyan eyed him warily before relenting. He sneered and crossed his arms over his chest. "Get it over with."

Taking his opportunity without hesitation, Dr. Nienstedt looked in Vegeta's ears and nodded his approval. "I'm going to do the same thing with your nose."

"What?" Vegeta choked when the doctor stuck his light in his nose. He reached up and gripped the doctor's wrist. "Get that thing away from me."

"Vegeta, calm down. You're going to hurt him," Bulma said when she saw her friend's temper flaring.

Vegeta growled as he released Dr. Nienstedt's wrist. "There is nothing to see in my nose," he spat.

"You're right," Dr. Nienstedt agreed as he rubbed his wrist. He'd been able to see what he needed by using the element of surprise and there was nothing to be concerned about. "Now if you would stand over here, please."

Vegeta went to the place where the doctor indicated and scowled at him. "Well?"

Dr. Nienstedt smiled congenially. He wasn't going to let the boy's sour attitude bother him. "Would you stand on your right foot?"

"What is the point of this nonsense?" Vegeta grumbled as he lifted his left foot off the floor.

"Just checking your balance."

"My balance?" Vegeta snorted. "How about I actually test it instead of standing on one foot? This is too easy."

"That won't be necessary," the doctor replied as he wrote more notes on his clipboard. "Switch feet."

Vegeta rolled his eyes and shifted his weight to his left foot. He waited for the doctor to finish his useless assessment.

"Ok, Vegeta. Would you take off your shirt?"

"No."

"Vegeta," Mrs. Brief said in a warning tone, "Do as the doctor asks."

The boy raked his hand through his hair before tearing his shirt off. He was about to blast someone into the next dimension. He had already been poked and prodded too much for his patience to bear. The only thing holding him back from going homicidal on the doctor was the presence of Bulma and Mrs. Brief.

Dr. Nienstedt stepped closer to Vegeta, brows furrowed. "There's not even a scar there."

"Where?" Vegeta asked through clenched teeth.

"Where the bullet hit you."

Vegeta shrugged. "It wasn't a serious wound. Is that all you wanted to see or is there another reason you had me remove my shirt?"

"Oh, yes," Dr. Nienstedt said. He cleared his throat. "Bend over and let your arms hang like this."

"Why?"

"Vegeta."

Vegeta glanced over at the frowning blonde woman. He groaned and bent over. He flinched when he felt the doctor's cold hands on his back.

"Good, no scoliosis. But I have to wonder where all these scars came from."

"That's none of your business."

"Actually, as your doctor it is my business."

"They came from different things," Vegeta explained when he heard the dainty – yet irritated – tapping of Mrs. Brief's toe.

"What about this one?" Dr. Nienstedt asked as he traced one long scar with his finger.

Images flashed through Vegeta's mind when he felt it. He remembered the specific story behind each scar on his body. That one was from one of his first encounters with Frieza when he hadn't learned to feign humility yet. He remembered the agony of the lizard tearing through his skin with his claw across his back, baring his ribs. A shiver ran down his spine at the memory.

"I don't remember."

"I think you do."

Vegeta shook his head and stood up straight. "You're wrong. Now finish the damned check-up."

"What about this one?" Dr. Nienstedt asked as he touched a patch of mottled skin on Vegeta's shoulder.

Vegeta slapped his hand away. "I was burned. Stop dredging up the past."

"How were you burned?"

"A sadistic bastard enjoyed using me as his plaything! Now drop it!"

The saiyan's outburst was followed by stunned silence. No one in the room knew what to say. It wasn't exactly a secret that Vegeta had been abused. His behavior gave enough evidence of that. Bulma knew more than anyone else what he had been through, but she really had no idea how bad it was or what specific tortures he had endured. He hadn't gone into much detail telling them what happened to cause the scar on his shoulder, but the venom in his voice and his choice of words told them plenty.

Dr. Nienstedt was the first to overcome his shock. "Who did this to you?"

Vegeta's tail bristled and unwound from his waist to lash angrily behind him. He was done answering any and all questions pertaining to his experience with the lizard. "I cannot tell you and it would do no good anyway. You have no way of finding him and bringing him to justice."

Deciding to fight that battle later, Dr. Nienstedt nodded and wrote some notes on his clipboard. He wasn't going to further exacerbate the boy's bad temper, especially on such a touchy subject.

"Fair enough." He set aside the clipboard and motioned for Vegeta to take a seat on the bed. "Well, let's continue the check-up then, ok?"

"About time."

Vegeta sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his shirt on. His tail stretched out behind him and continued to flick with his irritation. His angry gaze turned to Bulma when he heard her giggling. He had no idea what could possibly be amusing her.

When she saw him glaring at her she slapped her hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. She couldn't really help it. He was too funny when he was mad. Well, when he wasn't mad at her, that is. Seeing him giving the doctor such a hard time was funny to her. It was something she often wished she had the courage to do when someone bothered her. Too often her conscience reminded her that she needed to try and be civil to others.

Vegeta's eyes narrowed when he saw the doctor pick up a small hammer. He knew humans couldn't hurt him, but he still didn't like them going around hitting him, especially with some sort of blunt object like a hammer. His lip curled in a snarl as the doctor walked over to him with the tool. He looked like a cornered animal.

"We're going to test your reflexes now."

"You already said my reflexes were good."

Dr. Nienstedt chuckled. "Maybe so, but we need to do a formal test. Relax your leg. This won't hurt a bit."

Vegeta scoffed. Every single time someone told him that it meant it was going to hurt a lot. He knew better than to trust what the doctor said. Instead of listening, he tensed his muscles as he prepared to defend himself against any assault.

"Vegeta," the doctor said, "I told you to relax. This won't work if you're all tensed up."

The saiyan hissed with exasperation as he forced himself to release the tension in his muscles. He kept his guard up though. He watched suspiciously as the doctor raised the little hammer and brought it down on his knee in a light tap. Nothing happened.

"What are you trying to do?"

"Testing your reflexes, as I said," Dr. Nienstedt answered patiently. He rubbed his chin and then decided to use a little more force to elicit a reflex from the saiyan. He tapped his knee again, harder, but there was only the slightest movement in Vegeta's leg.

"Would you stop fooling around?" Vegeta growled. "You will never get any sort of 'reflex' with that stupid thing if you do not hit harder."

Dr. Nienstedt looked up at Vegeta's scowling face and shrugged. He raised the hammer and brought it down hard on the boy's knee. This time he was rewarded with a normal reflex as the boy's leg kicked up. "Strange," he muttered, "I normally don't have to use nearly so much force. I'm not sure that's a good sign."

"It also is not a bad sign," Vegeta told him. "I felt it the other times, but it was not nearly enough force to make any reflexes necessary. Therefore, they were repressed. Can we move on now?"

"I suppose so," Dr. Nienstedt conceded. "I'm going to ask you a few questions and then I'll give you a tetanus shot and you're free to go."

"Whatever."

"Right. So have you ever had any broken bones?"

Vegeta gave a bark of laughter in response. "Any broken bones? Every bone in my body was been broken at some point, most too often to count."

Dr. Nienstedt frowned and jotted down a note on his clipboard. "And have you ever had trouble breathing while engaging in any activities?"

"You mean when my lungs were not punctured?"

"Er, yes."

"No."

"Have you ever been hospitalized?"

"Yes."

"When was your most recent hospitalization?"

"When I was shot."

Dr. Nienstedt wrote the saiyan's answer down. "Have you ever had surgery?"

Vegeta wasn't sure how to answer that question. He'd never had any operations to fix anything. The regeneration tanks were always used to put him together after the lizard tore him apart. However, he had been experimented on a few times. Did that count?

"Not in the strictest sense, no."

"Do you know of any diseases that run in your family?"

"No."

"Have you ever been sexually active?"

Vegeta's eyebrow raised. "Not willingly."

Dr. Nienstedt dropped his pen and looked up at Vegeta with furrowed brows. "What do you mean by that?"

"Sadistic bastard."

The doctor sighed and nodded. He picked up his pen and wrote more on his clipboard. He had expected that question to be an easy 'no.' But, as with so many other things, the boy he was examining was proving to be an enigma in the most perplexing way. Physically he was outstanding in more ways than one. He was strong and fast, inhumanly so. But he also had abnormal vitals and reflexes and he was unbelievably heavy for his age and height. Sadly, he was also the victim of extreme abuse. And apparently sexual molestation. He was a puzzle waiting to be solved. It was no wonder he was so edgy and distrustful.

"Alright, that's all the questions I have for you, Vegeta."

"Good."

"So let's get you that vaccination and then you can go."

"I think I'll pass."

"Sorry, but that's not an option. I'll be right back." Dr. Nienstedt left the small room to take his paperwork to file.

"This is probably the worst part," Bulma tried reassuring the flame-haired boy, "but it's really not that bad."

"Hn." Vegeta was not convinced it wouldn't be detrimental to his health. He was not going to allow anything to be injected into his body, bypassing the normal defenses of his digestive system or respiratory tract. If he didn't want something being put in him, it wasn't going to be put in him. He had an option to refuse the vaccination whether or not anyone else thought he did. He'd put up with more than enough. An injection was where he drew the line.

A few minutes later Dr. Nienstedt walked back into the room and went to the counter by the sink to prepare the shot. Vegeta watched him, not trusting him in the least. He wasn't going to let his guard down and let the doctor get away with his insidious plot.

Dr. Nienstedt walked over to Vegeta's side and pushed his sleeve up. "There'll be a little pinch, but it won't hurt too much," he warned the saiyan.

"Hn."

The doctor wiped his arm with alcohol to sterilize it, then picked up the syringe from the counter. When he saw what was coming, Vegeta raised his ki to form an impenetrable barrier around his body. It wasn't visible, but it was strong. He smirked when he saw the doctor's eyes widen, then looked down and saw the flimsy needle was bent.

"Strange. That's never happened before," Dr. Nienstedt said. He walked back over to the counter and prepared a new shot.

Vegeta's smirk widened into a mischievous grin. There was no way Mrs. Brief or Bulma could accuse him of doing that on purpose. They weren't likely to draw the conclusion that he was purposely making it impossible for the doctor's needles to pierce through his skin. This time Dr. Nienstedt tried to push the needle in slower, but he came up with the same result. The needle couldn't break through Vegeta's skin.

"What is going on here?"

Vegeta shrugged.

"Vegeta, what are you doing?" Bulma asked from her seat across the room. She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Nothing."

"I don't understand," the doctor said, completely flabbergasted. "There should be no problem with the needles."

"Not my fault," Vegeta drawled. "Too bad. I guess I won't be getting that injection after all. Well, it's been nice seeing you again, doc. 'Til next time."

The young saiyan slid off the bed and walked to the door to make his exit with as much dignity as he could muster. He froze when he felt a hand on his tail.

"Wait," Dr. Nienstedt said. "I wanted to address this too."

"Let. Go."

"I'm sure you don't want to keep this? We could have it removed for you—"

In an instant the doctor found himself lying on the floor with the young boy straddling his chest with his fist raised ready to strike. He saw raw fury blazing in his obsidian eyes and his sharp teeth were bared in a feral snarl. He swallowed hard. He had no idea what happened. One second he was standing and the next he was looking into the eyes of a demon child.

"No one _ever_ touches my tail," Vegeta hissed. "If anyone tries, I _will_ kill him."

"Oh dear, Vegeta, honey, don't hurt him!" Mrs. Brief cried as she leaped out of her chair and rushed to the doctor's aid.

Vegeta growled low in his chest and glared at the blonde woman. "Don't hurt him? This idiot wants to amputate my tail! You _said_ I could trust this bastard."

Bulma was close behind her mother. She hurried over and shoved Vegeta off the doctor. "Veggie, calm down. He won't cut it off if you don't want him to. Don't worry about it."

Dr. Nienstedt slowly got to his feet and dusted himself off. He kept his distance from Vegeta. The hatred he saw in the boy's eyes was chilling. A shiver of fear ran down his spine. He didn't know what kind of person he was, but he wasn't taking his threat lightly. Something about him let him know that he wouldn't hesitate to kill. It made him uneasy thinking about the Briefs housing a monster in the form of a young boy.

"Let's go out to the waiting room, ok?" Bulma suggested as she took hold of Vegeta's elbow and pulled him out the door.

"Well?" Mrs. Brief prodded the doctor.

Dr. Nienstedt exhaled slowly and nodded. "I didn't give him the vaccination, but I don't think there's any needles that can break that boy's skin. I don't understand…"

"Just tell me if he can go or not."

"Yes, Mrs. Brief. I give my approval. He can go to school."

Vegeta halted and whirled around to storm back into the room when he heard that. "What?" he roared.

_A/N: Didn't see that one coming... so I've spent the past couple days editing some of the future chapters after watching almost all of Dragon Ball in less than week... yeah... so I combined a couple chapters, which means I'm not as far ahead as I'd like to be in writing. And I'm not going to get to write more today or tomorrow because I'm going kayaking. But I promise to update anyway._

_Well, in any case, I appreciate reviews! :D_


	22. First Day

First Day

Vegeta was not in a good mood. The sunny morning in late August did nothing to cheer him up. Angrier than usual, the Briefs – Bulma included – knew better than to test his temper. They ate their breakfast quietly. It was as if they were listening for a ticking time bomb that would go off any second. The tension was palpable in the air. Vegeta knew he was the cause of it. He might have felt guilt had he not been so thoroughly furious with his pack.

The kitchen of Capsule Corporation was filled with the sounds of silverware clattering against plates and bowls. Mrs. Brief and Dr. Brief continually exchanged glances as if second-guessing their decision. Bulma, though silent, was secretly overjoyed about the situation that had Vegeta so upset. She had expected him to be mad for a while, but she had no doubt he would get over it soon enough. She wanted to tell him so, but she kept her peace. There was no sense further upsetting him before the day got started.

When he was finished eating, Vegeta stormed out of the kitchen and went upstairs to his new room to finish getting ready. He didn't have a clue about what to expect. All he knew was that he didn't want to do it. He knew he could get out of it if he tried hard enough, but that would require using methods he wasn't willing to utilize against the Briefs. The only consolation he had was that he wouldn't have to endure it for more than a few months.

He almost laughed at his reflection in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. He was pathetic to give in to the whims of humans because he allowed himself to become attached to them. He hated humans, yet here he was acting like one. How embarrassing. What could he possibly gain through this? Nothing. It was nothing more than a new low that made his pride ache. He spat out the frothy toothpaste and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, casting his reflection a cold glare. He hated himself for being so weak. With a half-hearted, one-shoulder shrug he walked out of his bathroom and grabbed his plain navy blue backpack from his desk. Just another reminder of his defeat. His dark mood certainly wasn't a sudden thing. It had been building over the past week after going through another long shopping trip, countless arguments with the elder Briefs, and "pep talks" from Bulma. And today was the day it all culminated in his ultimate humiliation.

Today was the first day of school.

He dragged his backpack behind him as he exited his room and went downstairs where Bulma was waiting for him at the door. It was hard to miss the traces of amusement showing themselves at the corners of her lips. She was trying her best to keep herself from grinning, but it wasn't enough to fool him. He snarled at her as he pushed past her and went outside. He had no doubt that she was part of the driving force behind the decision to send him to school even though he proved himself more than smart enough for a feeble human education. He picked up languages faster than he could be taught and he knew math and science like the back of his hand. There really wasn't much more for him to learn in middle school, but then Bulma already knew it all too. Really, it was pointless for either of them to go, but for some messed up reason the Briefs thought it was necessary for all kids to get a formal education only the public education system could provide. That was laughable. He couldn't believe they were really going to make him do this. He, the Prince of all Saiyans, attending an earthling middle school! It was beyond absurd. He should be fighting battles, not sitting in a classroom with human brats.

As he passed Bulma on the way out the door she could feel heat radiating from his body. He gave the term 'fuming' new meaning when he was extremely angry. After listening to his explanation of ki, she understood why his body could feel hot enough to burn. It was still hard to believe, but she had no reason to doubt him. It wasn't as if he would make something like that up. She sighed and followed him out of the compound. If possible, she would stay with him for the first part of the day and maybe give him a tour of the school. He wasn't likely to be civil to anyone and she didn't want him getting in trouble too soon.

She caught up to him as he stalked across the yard and had to practically jog to keep up with him. She stayed at his side and kept a watch on him from the corner of her eye. She could see that his tail was wrapped tightly around his waist so it appeared to be a belt. She was thankful for that. He would be made fun of mercilessly if the other kids knew he had a tail. She nearly stopped in her tracks when she remembered he would have to change clothes in the locker room for gym class. Well, there was nothing she could do about it.

His tail was very tight around his waist, but the tip was flicking angrily. He wanted to lob someone's head off. He tried shaking that thought from his mind, but it was persistent. He was well aware of the girl watching him and that only made him angrier. Did she think he was going to enjoy himself? If she did, she was more idiotic than he gave her credit for. He placed partial blame on her for his fate. No doubt she persuaded her parents to make him go to school on the pointless basis that she had to go without needing it.

'This is stupid. I don't need some pathetic human education. I know more than they could ever teach me and nothing they'll teach will ever be useful. I shouldn't have to do this. I don't care if she has to suffer through this. I don't need it. All I _need _is to get off this damn planet.'

Bulma wasn't a mind reader, but she had a good idea about what Vegeta was thinking. They turned the corner where she first asked him to come stay at Capsule Corporation. Neither of them had said a word since before breakfast. The silence was killing her. She needed to say something.

"I know it's dumb you have to go to school. Heck, it's dumb that I do." She waited for some kind of response, but all she got was more silence with a slightly curled lip that revealed a sharp canine sticking out below it. She sighed and tried again. "It's not much fun, but there's worse things to do, I guess. At least it'll give you something to do. Wouldn't you get bored when I'm not home?"

"No."

Bulma huffed and flipped her hair over her shoulders. "What would you do?"

Vegeta didn't answer right away. What would he do? He had to admit he had spent the majority of his days with her over the summer – willingly or not. They went swimming, they watched TV and movies, they played games, and they sometimes went to the park after she got over her nightmares. So what would he do without her forcing him into participating in human amusements?

"Train."

"All day?"

"Hn."

She looked at him incredulously and shook her head. She knew training was one of the few activities he actually did voluntarily, but still. For hours on end? "You're unbelievable."

Vegeta didn't grace that comment with a reply. The school was now in view and it made him angrier than ever. Each step closer was a step deeper in his humiliation. He could see dozens of brats making their way to the school, either walking or being deposited by cars and buses. There were clusters of brats congregating in front of the school, which made him wonder how many more were crammed inside. His muscles tensed as he prepared for immersion in sensory overload.

"Here we are," Bulma grumbled more to herself than her brooding companion.

The blue-haired girl and the flame-haired boy went into the school and headed for the gymnasium for the first day of school assembly. They sat in the first row of the bleachers, more from a lack of caring about anything than a desire for good seats. Bulma hated the tradition of 'welcoming' the students as if they had something to be excited about.

"Hey freak, move."

Bulma looked up when she saw a pair of shoes standing in front of her. When she saw who had so rudely addressed her she rolled her eyes. There stood the new captain of the basketball team and his posse. Since the eighth graders of yesteryear had gone on to high school it was time for the next middle school student oligarchy to rise to dominance.

"Should've gotten here sooner, moron," Bulma retorted.

"Excuse me?"

"I know you're not deaf. Find a seat somewhere else."

The jocks were hardly willing to admit defeat, but with so many teachers around there wasn't much they could do to force Bulma out of her seat. They left, faking seeing another group of friends with better seats to go join.

"Idiots," she muttered. She pulled a yellow envelope out of her backpack and tore it open. "Hey, Veggie, do you have your schedule?"

"Hn."

"Can I see it?"

Vegeta pulled an identical envelope out of his backpack and shoved it into her outstretched hand. He hadn't opened it yet, not caring what classes he had. Their schedules had been mailed to them a couple days ago. Bulma already knew what classes she had, but she wanted to see how they lined up with Vegeta's.

"Hey, we have algebra and science together. And gym. Oh, good, we have the same lunch too."

"Hn."

"You could be more excited about it. It wouldn't kill you."

Vegeta sneered and crossed his arms over his chest. He could have all or none of his classes with Bulma. It didn't matter to him. It was a waste of time either way.

A few minutes passed and the last stragglers entered the gym for the start of the assembly. Bulma rested her elbows on her knees and held her chin in her hands. She was hoping it wouldn't be a long-winded speech about the importance of education or some nonsense like that.

She, along with the majority of the student body, groaned when the principal opened her speech with a lame pun. Vegeta closed his eyes, deciding he wasn't going to miss anything if he meditated through it. If he couldn't train physically, he could at least train his mind. He ignored Bulma nudging him with her elbow and sank into his meditative trance.

'Great,' Bulma thought, 'now I can't even talk to him through this.' She wrote herself a mental note to ask Vegeta to teach her how to meditate later. It looked like it could be useful at times. For the time being, though, she had to suffer through the principal's welcome speech alone.

"Vegeta, come on," Bulma said once they were dismissed to go to class. "It's time to go to algebra."

Vegeta opened his eyes and sighed heavily. "Why bother going? We both know it."

"I know, Veggie," Bulma agreed, "but we get in trouble for cutting class. Let's go."

The saiyan prince threw his backpack over his shoulder and followed Bulma to their first class. The whole way his mind was screaming what a waste of time it was. Bulma led them into a small classroom with three rows of tables. Not many students took algebra before freshman year of high school. Not at West City Middle School.

Bulma sat down in the back row next to the wall and gestured for Vegeta to take a seat next to hers. He slid into the chair and laid his head on the table. He heard more people walking in, talking, and taking seats. The room was going to be full. He groaned as the small room was filled with the scents of humans and the ridiculous amounts of perfume, body spray, cologne, and deodorant they used. Obviously they didn't know what they were doing using such things. He felt like vomiting.

"Hello class," the teacher said when he walked in the room. He started setting up the outdated technology – an overhead projector – and started telling his pupils what to expect from his course. Vegeta and Bulma were less than impressed.

"Mr. Kim is totally boring," Bulma whispered to her alien friend. Vegeta snorted. Everything was going to be boring to him.

"The back row can come up and get your books," Mr. Kim announced. The students sitting in the back formed a line as they went to pick up their textbooks for the class. They signed a paper with their book numbers and returned to their seats so the next row could go up and get their books.

"This stuff is so easy," Bulma commented as she flipped through the pages of her text.

Vegeta glanced at the equations as she turned the pages. It was child's play to him. "Hn."

There was the sound of paper shuffling as the other students opened their notebooks to begin taking notes once the lecture started. "Do you know how to play tic-tac-toe?" Bulma asked Vegeta.

"No."

"It's easy." Bulma opened her own notebook and drew a simple grid with three rows and three columns. "I'll be X and you be O. You draw an O in any open square, then I draw an X. The point is to get three in a row down, across, or diagonal. Ok?"

"Hn."

"Your turn first."

Vegeta drew an O in the bottom right space. Bulma countered with an X in the top right. Vegeta filled in the top left. Bulma put an X in the middle. Vegeta put an O in the bottom left. Bulma put an X in the bottom middle. Vegeta got three in a row down the left side.

Bulma frowned. "You win. This game is too easy. We need something better to do."

"Miss Brief, is there something you'd like to tell the class?" Mr. Kim asked sternly.

"No, sir."

The class snickered when Bulma was reprimanded. They loved seeing her taken down a notch. Maybe she was a genius, but she was still just a freak. A freakish little kid.

Vegeta wondered why the other students laughed. Nothing humorous happened. He could have sworn by Bulma's body language that she was embarrassed, but he didn't understand why she would be. He shrugged it off and looked out the window. The sky was sunny and clear and he was trapped inside. He knew for sure now that there was no justice in the universe.

Bulma drew another tic-tac-toe grid and put an X in the top right. In less than twenty seconds they grid was full with no winner. It annoyed Vegeta that it was possible for neither of them to come out victorious. In any competition there should always be a winner and a loser.

"There will be no homework for tomorrow," Mr. Kim announced when the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Most of the class breathed a sigh of relief, but neither Bulma nor Vegeta cared.

"You have literature next, right?" Bulma asked Vegeta as they left the algebra room.

"Hn."

"Ok. Your classroom will be down that way," she told him, pointing to the right. "My next class is upstairs. Wait for me here and we can go to science together."

Vegeta grunted and started weaving his way through the crowd of adolescents to get to room 305. He passed several doors before he found the right one. He walked into the classroom where most of the seats were already taken.

"What's your name?" asked a tall woman standing at the front of the room. He knew immediately she was a strange human. Her voice was slightly airy, almost as if she were far away mentally. Her glasses, slightly crooked, were large enough to cover more than half of her wrinkled face. Her thin, gray hair was wildly out of control and looked as though it may have been permed several years ago and never since. She was wearing plain white walking shoes, black stockings, and a navy blue dress that was fashioned after a sailor uniform, complete with long pleated skirt and red neckerchief. Any shape her body may have had was hidden under her unflattering apparel. Vegeta assumed she was the teacher.

"Vegeta."

"Last name?"

Vegeta hesitated for a second. He didn't have a last name. "Brief."

"Ah, there you are," she said as she marked his name on her class roster. "Well, Vegeta, you can take a seat wherever you'd like."

The saiyan looked at his options. The back row was full, as were all the seats along the walls. He shrugged and took a seat in the third row on the left side. There was no one on either side of him or in front of him. He liked it that way. Shortly, though, two boys walked in and gave their names before taking the two empty seats to Vegeta's right.

"Who's the runt?" one asked as he glanced over at Vegeta.

"I don't know. Some new kid, I guess. I think I saw him sitting next to that Bulma girl at the assembly."

"Probably a freak then."

Vegeta growled. Even though they were whispering he could hear them clearly. He resented being labeled a freak. Maybe he wasn't human, but he was _not_ a freak. Besides, what did his association with Bulma have to do with anything? He gathered from her short conversation with the group of boys at the assembly that she was not well liked. Perhaps it was more than just those boys who didn't hold her in high esteem. He shrugged. It didn't matter much to him who liked who because frankly, he didn't like anyone. Their opinions meant nothing to him.

"Good morning, young people. My name is Mrs. McGuire and you're in eighth grade literature. Welcome! You're all here so I'll go ahead and let you come to the front and get your books. I'll pass this sign-up sheet around and you can put your book number by your name. Remember you will be fined at the end of the year if I find writing in it."

Slowly, the students made their way to the front of the class to get their books. Vegeta figured it was going to be essentially the same routine in each of his classes. He would have opted not to get a book, but he doubted that would be allowed. So, he grabbed a literature book and went back to his seat. Bored, he opened the book and started reading.

Bulma sat in her computer class wondering how Vegeta was doing on his own. She hadn't heard any explosions, so she assumed he was fine. She frowned at the computer monitor. She was supposed to be typing the paragraph in her book, but she didn't care. She knew how to type without looking at the keyboard already. Most of the students in her class did. It was a waste of time. She sighed and started typing, if only to pass the time until her next class. Taking a computer class was the best option she had as an elective because she wasn't good at art, hated cooking, and didn't want to learn woodworking. If there was a mechanics class in middle school she would have taken it, but that was only offered in high school. Still, she was going to be bored out of her mind if this was all she could expect. Typing. She scoffed. She knew how to build a computer a hundred times better than the one she was using from scratch. There was nothing she could possibly learn from such a class. That was the trouble with being a genius.

The bell rang a moment after Vegeta closed his book. He was finished reading everything in it. Most of the stories were childish and at a reading level far below him. Still, it was entertaining enough to get him through the class without losing his mind. When the bell rang he put the book in his backpack and left the room to go wait for the blue-haired girl.

Bulma shoved her way through the students milling around in the hallways until she reached the room she had algebra in. She saw Vegeta leaning against the lockers by the door and went over to him.

"So how was class?"

He shrugged. There wasn't much to say. He didn't pay attention to the lecture and he read the entire textbook already.

"Same. Let's go, we don't want to be late. Ms Beketov is evil."

Vegeta followed Bulma to the opposite end of the long hallway and went into the last classroom. Seats were arranged with five rows of four tables with two chairs at each. Half the class was already there, so Bulma and Vegeta took their seats at a table near the back of the room. He looked around the room, noticing it was much different than the others he had already been in. There was a long counter near the front that had a sink on one end. The chalkboard was behind it. There was another counter running along the wall on the side opposite the windows with cupboards above and below. There was another series of cabinets built into the back wall that had glass doors to show the contents, including the skeletons of small animals, assorted rocks, and a few fossils. Between the back cabinets was a door that presumably led to a laboratory.

"I'm almost looking forward to this class," Bulma said, leaning over toward Vegeta. "Seventh grade science is all about biology stuff but eighth grade has physics and astronomy and stuff. I probably know it all already, but at least it's more interesting."

The young saiyan grunted his assent. He was no scholar despite his impeccable memory bank, but he did sort of like physics if only because he could apply them both in fighting and traveling. It applied to his life directly, and if anything, Vegeta was a pragmatist. He wanted things to be useful, otherwise he wouldn't waste his time on it. Sometimes his curiosity did lead him to learn about things he would never use, but only when he could spare the time, which wasn't often.

"Good morning, class," Ms. Beketov said. "I think I've had most of you in my classes before. But for those of you who don't know me, I'm Ms. Beketov."

"Fantastic," Vegeta muttered. Bulma giggled until she got a glare from the teacher. She cleared her throat and tried to appear politely attentive.

Again, the students got their textbooks while Ms. Beketov took attendance. Bulma and Vegeta sat down in their seats with their books. Vegeta stared at the cover while Bulma started looking through the text. As expected, it didn't look like she was going to be learning anything new. She closed her book with a disappointed sigh. She pulled her notebook out of her backpack and started writing much too fast for anyone to believe she was taking notes from the board.

"Hey, Veggie," she whispered. When she had his attention she handed him a folded piece of paper. He took it and unfolded it.

_This class is going to be so boring! Oh well. Did Mom pack you a lunch?_ Vegeta wondered why she was communicating through writing. He figured it would be breaking a social norm to speak during class. That had to be the only explanation for everyone being so quiet through each of his classes. It couldn't have been from real interest in the subjects being taught. He took a pencil out of his backpack and wrote a response, then folded the paper and handed it back to Bulma.

Bulma opened the note. _Yes._ She rolled her eyes at his short reply. Even in writing he didn't have much to say. She wrote again and passed the note to Vegeta.

_That's good. I doubt a lunch at the cafeteria would be enough for you. What do you have after this class?_

Vegeta replied: _History._

_ With who?_

_ Bonilla._

_ She's good. Well, not __too__ boring anyway._

_ Hn._

_ Seriously? You even write Hn? We only have ten minutes left._

_ Good._

A student sitting behind Vegeta raised her hand. Ms. Beketov acknowledged her. "Ms. Beketov, Bulma's passing notes."

Ms. Beketov walked over to Bulma's desk and held her hand out for the paper now crumpled in the girl's fist. Bulma groaned as she handed the note to her least favorite teacher. At least neither of them had written anything too bad. Ms. Beketov opened the note and read through it.

"So you think my class is boring?" she asked icily.

Bulma looked up at her teacher defiantly and nodded. She was tired of being intimidated by authority figures. Especially the tyrant science teacher.

"Talk to me after class," Ms. Beketov said as she returned to the front of the room to finish her lecture. When her back was turned Bulma twisted around in her seat and shot the tattletale a cold glare. The girl smiled smugly.

The last few minutes passed slowly for Vegeta and Bulma. When the bell rang, Bulma told Vegeta to wait for her while she went to talk to the teacher. So Vegeta remained sitting in his seat and listened to the conversation between Bulma and Ms. Beketov.

"Bulma, I know you're a very bright girl, but I can't have you always disrupting my class. Are we going to have a repeat of last year?"

"No, Ms. Beketov. I'm sorry." Vegeta didn't think her apology sounded genuine.

"Vegeta is a new student here. I don't want you to make him fall behind."

"He won't."

"He will if you distract him in class. Not everyone knows this material as well as you do."

"He does."

Ms. Beketov sighed in exasperation. "What am I going to do with you?"

"I don't know. I need to show Vegeta where his next class is. Can I go?"

Clearly not happy about the girl's attitude, Ms. Beketov grudgingly gave her permission for Bulma to leave. Bulma gestured for Vegeta to come with her and started down the hall. She stopped a few doors down. "This is Mrs. Bonilla's classroom. What do you have after history?"

"Art."

Bulma's eyebrow raised. "You're taking art?"

Vegeta shrugged. "I didn't choose my classes."

Bulma could hardly keep from laughing. She couldn't imagine Vegeta in an art class. He wasn't exactly the artistic type. "Ok, well that will be in a room down that hall. You'll find it easy." She pointed to a hallway crossing the main corridor. "Anyway, I have to get to class. I'll see you at lunch!"

Vegeta trudged into the history class and sat in the back corner. He dropped his heavy backpack on the floor next to his desk, folded his arms on top of it, and rested his head on them. He was bored out of his mind. School was worse than he ever imagined it could be. After he got his textbook and the lecture started, he cleared his mind to meditate. He was in a class where he actually didn't know the subject matter, but he couldn't care less about learning human history.

Bulma sat through her literature class, only vaguely interested. She never cared much for literature and English. Math and science were her areas of expertise. Still, the class was required so she had to endure it. Bulma was ready for school to be over, but it wasn't even lunch time yet. She sighed heavily and opened her notebook to doodle. Drawing could be entertaining. With that thought in mind she sketched a caricature of Vegeta wearing a beret and painting on an easel. She laughed to herself as she gave him a frustrated scowl.

"Vegeta? Vegeta?"

The young prince's eyes opened when he heard his name being called. "What?"

Mrs. Bonilla was taken aback by his tone, but she shrugged it off. "Would you read the third paragraph on page seven, please?"

'I would rather not,' he answered mentally as he opened his book and turned to the right page. He found the third paragraph and started reading out loud. He heard some of his peers whispering about his accent. Was it really that bad? He didn't think so. When he finished the paragraph Mrs. Bonilla thanked him and called another student to read the next paragraph.

Vegeta scanned over the page. It was talking about how the human population was still recovering from some event that happened three centuries ago. There wasn't much detail about what happened to practically wipe out all of human existence, including the population, technology, agriculture, and cities. The saiyan wondered what could have caused such devastation on the mudball. A worldwide epidemic of some disease wouldn't destroy the cities and technology. Perhaps it was a meteor shower, or an asteroid, a series of severe natural disasters, or even a sudden, drastic global climate change. All of those could explain the decline in the human population, but nothing seemed to be able to account for the other losses. Strange.

He was still pondering that question when the bell rang, cheerfully announcing the end of class. He put his history book in his backpack and left the classroom to go to art. He went down the hall Bulma indicated earlier and found the art room right away. The first thing he noticed inside was a woman with long, curly red hair, round thick-rimmed glasses, and frumpy clothes (including an oversized orange sweater despite the summer heat and a long, flowing floral skirt) sitting on a stool at the front of the class. She smelled faintly like the house of Charlie Conrad. Vegeta snarled as the scent triggered his memory.

"Hello, there. You can take a seat where you'd like," she told Vegeta. He grunted and went to an open table at the back of the room. The bell rang again a couple minutes later. The teacher stood up and smiled at her small class. "Welcome to art class. My name is Miss Hoogstraat."

Vegeta took this time to look around at the other students in the room. They looked like a bunch of weirdoes. The majority of them had oddly colored hair, excessive make-up (even the boys) and they were wearing minimal colors. He wondered what sort of class this was going to be if only the people from the fringes of accepted society were interested in taking it. He shrugged and leaned against the table, not interested in what Miss Hoogstraat was saying. She was as crazy as the rest of the students, therefore not worth his time.

"Alright students," Miss Hoogstraat said, "Pick any object in the room and draw a picture of it."

Her instructions given, she waltzed over to the desk already piled high with half-finished art projects and started drawing in great detail the mug full of pencils sitting precariously close to the edge. Vegeta glanced around the room when he noticed a drop in volume as the other students ceased talking to one another and the crazy teacher had finished speaking. He shrugged again and rapped his fingers on the table. He had another half an hour of the most pointless class he could ever possibly take. His head was already spinning from the fumes of the various paints housed in the cabinets. It was going to be a long half hour.

"Hey, kid," a girl with bright red hair at the table next to Vegeta's said when she saw he wasn't doing anything, "Aren't you going to draw something?"

"Draw what?" he grumbled.

The girl shrugged her shoulders and gestured to the whole room. "Miss Hoogstraat said you can draw anything in here. I'm drawing the stool at the front of the room."

Vegeta's eyes scanned over the room once more. There was nothing that caught his attention. The bright red-haired girl went back to her drawing while he debated what to draw. He could simply refuse to draw anything, but the Briefs were expecting him to earn high marks. He figured that meant he had to put some sort of effort into this school thing, even if it was the most degrading thing he would ever have to do. He grabbed a piece of paper from the center of the table and pulled his pencil out of his backpack. He tapped the eraser against the paper as he considered what he should draw.

Eventually he chose his own backpack that was lying on the floor next to his seat. It wasn't anything impressive, but it was something to draw, and that was what he was supposed to be doing. He drew the outline, added some details, and started shading it. In about five minutes his drawing was complete. He looked back and forth between his backpack and his drawing and nodded his approval. It could practically be mistaken for a photograph. When that was finished, he rested his head on the table and tried to block out the odors of paint, people, and marijuana. It was easy enough to draw something concrete. He might have more problems if he were asked to draw something original, something he couldn't physically see. He knew his limitations, and he knew he wasn't creative or innovative. That was one thing he admired about Bulma and her father. They could think up some crazy new invention and bring it to life. He could never do that. Not that he cared. As long as he could operate machinery and figure out equations that someone else took the trouble to discover or invent, he was satisfied. Regurgitating information input was where he excelled, and hopefully that would be all he needed, even in art class.

When the bell rang, Bulma raced out of her English class go get to the cafeteria and find a seat for herself and Vegeta. She was closer to the cafeteria so she reasoned that she would get there first. There was also the trivial issue of her having never mentioned to him where to find the cafeteria. Regardless, she was sure he would follow his nose and find the cafeteria on his own without her guidance. She found a seat by the windows and sat down facing the doors so she could watch for Vegeta.

Two or three minutes passed before Vegeta got to the cafeteria. As soon as she saw his trademark flame of coal black hair Bulma waved to get his attention. Her hand caught his eye and he made his way through the maze of tables and students to reach her. He sat down across from her and took his lunch capsule out of his backpack. He pushed the plunger and dropped it on the table. A small puff of smoke cleared, revealing a sizable feast fitting for a growing saiyan.

Bulma didn't bat an eye as she opened her own lunch capsule that had a ham sandwich, potato chips, and an apple. The discrepancy between their lunches was humorous considering they were about equal in size physically. Neither said a word as they ate, not because Bulma didn't want to talk but because she knew he wouldn't make conversation while eating. Besides, he still seemed to be in an exceptionally bad mood. It didn't surprise her. She wasn't in the greatest mood either. School had that effect on her.

"Hey freaks, why are you sitting in our seats?"

Bulma recognized the voice of the same boy who tried to make her move at the assembly that morning. She ignored his inquiry and continued eating. He obviously had nothing better to do than try bullying her, but she wasn't going to let him get to her. Vegeta likewise ignored the boys. He wasn't happy about being called a freak again, but he didn't consider a confrontation with the pathetic humans to be worth his time.

The basketball captain slammed his tray down on the table, causing his jell-o to jump and jiggle furiously. "Hello? Are you listening to me? These are _our_ seats!"

Bulma glared at him. "Your name's not on them. Sit somewhere else."

"Move!" the boy shouted.

"You're free to join us," Bulma said sweetly, knowing that would throw him off.

He stuttered a moment, then regained his composure. "As if we'd want to sit with you."

Bulma shrugged. "Then I guess you'll have to find somewhere else to sit." She took another bite of her sandwich and attempted to ignore him.

The boy was not willing to admit defeat again. He surveyed the cafeteria for nearby, watchful teachers. None were around. He stomped over to Bulma and grabbed her hair to yank her out of her seat.

"Ow!"

Bulma whirled around in her seat and saw Vegeta pinning the bully against the wall with his arm twisted painfully behind his back. As silence fell through the cafeteria a low rumbling sound was heard. Only three people knew its origin.

"Vegeta, let him go," Bulma said calmly. She wanted to defuse the fight before Vegeta got in trouble.

The saiyan released his victim and returned to his seat. The boy rubbed his aching shoulder and scowled at the flame-haired runt. He felt the eyes of everyone in the cafeteria on him, all witnessing his shame. He strode over to Vegeta and drew his fist back to punch him, but his attack came to a grinding halt when he felt Vegeta's elbow in his solar plexus. He doubled over and howled in pain. Vegeta snorted and continued eating, acting as if nothing out of the ordinary happened.

"Maybe you should take your friend to the nurse," Bulma suggested to the group of boys still standing around in shock. One of them nodded dumbly and helped his fallen friend to his feet and quickly retreated from the cafeteria.

Bulma wasn't surprised when she saw a teacher heading over to them. She sighed and finished her sandwich. 'What a great way to start the school year.'

"Bulma Brief, would you care to tell me what's going on here?" Mr. Brown, one of the math teachers, asked.

"Not really," she mumbled under her breath. She thought she saw a hint of a smirk curling Vegeta's lips.

"What was that?"

Bulma gave a fake smile and folded her hands primly on the table. "Well, Mr. Brown, I was being harassed by Jordan because he wanted my seat and didn't accept my candid invitation to let him sit with me. When he lost his temper, Vegeta stepped in to help me because he knew I was defenseless against Jordan.

"So you're telling me that Jordan started a fight."

"I would call it a heated argument."

"When you're finished eating you and Vegeta are to go to the principal's office."

Bulma nodded glumly and glared daggers at Mr. Brown's back as he walked back to his post – next to Miss Hoogstraat.

"This isn't fair," Bulma hissed.

Vegeta, having finally finished his lunch, packed his dishes back in the capsule. "What is the point of going to the principal?"

"It means we're in trouble and we're going to be punished because of that idiot jock."

Vegeta snarled at the word 'punished.' It reminded him too much of the lizard. "We aren't going to go."

"Sorry Vegeta, that's not a choice. We'll be in even deeper trouble if we don't go."

Vegeta knew all about compounded punishment. He shuddered at the memory. He knew human punishment would not be the same as he was used to, but he couldn't help but draw parallels. There was really nothing to be afraid of, he tried to tell himself. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension rising in his chest.

"What's the worst that could happen? They call my parents and give us detentions? I don't really care," Bulma ranted. She clenched her fists and pounded them against the table. "This is such bogus! We didn't do anything wrong!"

"Hn."

Bulma grabbed her backpack and stood up. "Let's get this over with."

Vegeta picked up his backpack and walked alongside Bulma as they exited the cafeteria. He smirked to himself when he heard the comments made about him. He didn't mind their fear. Fear equated to respect in his opinion. And he figured he was above them so they _should_ fear and respect him.

"So probably the principal will ask us what happened, try to be fair, blah, blah. She'll place equal blame on all of us, take disciplinary action, and send us to class."

"Hn." Vegeta was wondering why she would be blamed for that fool going on the offensive. Obviously she was patronizing him, but he made the first move. Were humans so weak that they considered defense on the same level as offense? If anyone should be disciplined, it should be the idiot who tried to raise his hand against the girl.

They walked into the over-air conditioned office near the main entrance of the school. There they were directed to sit in the chairs lined up against the wall by the secretary. The boy who helped Jordan to the nurse was already sitting there. He watched Vegeta nervously as he walked by with Bulma. They sat down in the two chairs closest to the principal's office.

"Thanks, by the way."

Vegeta grunted. "You need to learn to defend yourself."

"Why bother when I have you to protect me?" she answered cheekily.

He shook his head with a sigh. "I won't be with you forever."

Bulma frowned. It wasn't the first time he told her he would leave. She couldn't understand why he would though. She knew he didn't want to go. He had nothing good to return to. He was horribly abused, why choose that life over the one he had at Capsule Corporation?

"You could be."

"Stupid girl. I've told you before that I have to go back. Maybe I'll come back some day, but not until I've exacted my revenge."

The blue-haired girl didn't bother arguing. A part of her didn't believe he would ever leave. But a greater part of her knew he would and there was no way to stop him.

"When do you plan to go back?"

"As soon as I can."

That was a mood dampener. Not that either of them were in a great mood as they waited to talk to the principal for an incident neither of them was responsible for. Bulma rested her chin in her hands and Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest. He scowled at the door of the principal's office. Finally, after what seemed like an interminably long wait, the door opened and the principal walked out. She was followed closely by Jordan.

"Miss Brief, please come with me," the principal said. She walked back into her office with Bulma on her heels.

Vegeta's tail bristled when Jordan sat in the empty chair between him and the other boy. He considered scooting over to the seat Bulma previously occupied but he wasn't willing to give ground to his adversary. He ignored the boys as they started whispering to each other and focused on trying to hear what was going on behind the closed door.

"I need you to tell me what happened," Mrs. DuBois said as she sat behind her messy, oversized desk.

Bulma fidgeted with the hem of her shirt for a moment. "Me and Vegeta were minding our own business eating lunch when Jordan and his friends came over to our table. Jordan told us to move out of _their_ seats. I told him he could sit with us but we weren't going to move. He got mad and tried to remove me from the table forcibly, but Vegeta stopped him. When Jordan tried to pick a fight with Vegeta, he defended himself. That's about it."

"When you say remove you forcibly, what do you mean?"

"Well, I guess he was going to pull me out of my chair. I don't know, he didn't get a chance to do it."

"Then how do you know he was going to hurt you?"

Bulma sighed. "I don't."

"Alright. Send Vegeta in and take a seat in the office."

The girl walked out of the principal's office and sat next to Vegeta. "It's your turn to go in. Just stay calm, ok?"

"Hn." Vegeta stood up and with regal poise went into the principal's office, shutting the door with a bang. He glared at the principal as he sat down in the chair in front of the desk.

"Vegeta, is that your name? I'm sorry that your first day at West City Middle had to go this way." Mrs. DuBois paused, waiting for a reply. When she was met with an awkward silence she decided to cut to the chase. "Well, I've heard the story from Jordan, Russell, and Bulma, but I'd like you to tell me from your perspective."

The saiyan rolled his eyes. "The idiot tried to interrupt our lunch. We ignored him. He tried to hurt the girl, and I prevented him from doing so. He was shamed, so he tried to retaliate, but I stopped him."

Mrs. DuBois was surprised that he, the one who could potentially be in the most trouble, gave the most concise answer. Not only that, but he had a very thick, unidentifiable accent.

"You said he was going to hurt Bulma. How do you know that?"

"He grabbed her hair. The muscles in his shoulders were tense, as if he were preparing to pull something. His facial expression showed he was angry. Basically, his body language screamed of ill intent."

The principal was astounded by his keen observations. Most students would simply say they could "tell" when someone was going to do something. The confidence she had in her belief that he acted irrationally wavered.

"And how did you prevent him from doing anything to her?"

"I immobilized him."

"You immobilized him."

Vegeta wondered why she repeated what he said. He answered her question, didn't he? What else did she expect from him? He slowly raised an eyebrow.

"How?" she prompted him.

"I used a hammerlock."

"I see," she said. She rapped her fingers against her desk. She honestly had no idea what a hammerlock was, but she wasn't about to admit that to a student. "You also mentioned he tried to retaliate. What exactly happened there?"

"He was going to punch me. I defended myself."

"How?"

He snarled a little as her interrogation persisted. He already told her what went on. Now she asked him to say it all over again. He was irritated enough by the questioning already, so he wanted it to be over before he lost his patience entirely.

"I hit his solar plexus, effectively stopping his attack on my person."

"He didn't hit you first?"

"No."

"How do you know he would have hit you?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes again. What a stupid question. He countered with his own: "Was I supposed to just let him hit me to be sure?"

"Well, no, but –"

"He intended to harm me and I protected myself. He brought it on himself."

Mrs. DuBois hardly knew what to say. He wasn't even trying to downplay his own act of violence. Deserved or not, he should not have hit Jordan. She picked up her phone and started dialing the number for Capsule Corporation. "I'm going to have to call your guardians about this, Vegeta."

He stayed silent as she finished dialing the number and held the phone to her ear. Vegeta didn't really want the Briefs to hear her rendition of what happened, but if that was the worst his punishment was going to be he could take it.

Mrs. Brief was putting a turkey in the oven when the phone started ringing. She ran over to it and saw on the call ID that it was Bulma and Vegeta's school calling. She picked up the receiver. "Hello, you have reached Capsule Corporation, this is Mrs. Brief speaking."

"Good day, Mrs. Brief," Mrs. DuBois started, "this is the principal of West City Middle School."

"Oh, dear, has something happened to my little girl? Or Vegeta?"

Mrs. DuBois winced and held the phone away from her ear. When the screeching on the other end subsided she replied, "No, Mrs. Brief. We've just had a little incident involving Bulma and Vegeta. Would it be possible for you to come for a meeting with me this afternoon?"

"What kind of incident?"

"Vegeta got into a small fight with another student here."

"What?" Mrs. Brief screamed. "Vegeta would never fight with anyone!"

Vegeta, hearing the full conversation, laughed to himself. Leave it to the crazy woman to defend his honor regardless of how wrong she was. She had no idea what he was capable of and willing to do. Had she forgotten about the scum who tried to kidnap her and the girl?

"I understand, Mrs. Brief, but I would still like to talk to you about what happened."

"I'll come right over."

"Thank you, Mrs. Brief."

Mrs. DuBois hung up the phone and turned to Vegeta. "Mrs. Brief will come over this afternoon. Until then, you and Bulma are free to go to class. You will be called back to the office when she arrives."

Without a word Vegeta stood and left her office. He grabbed his backpack from the floor and pulled Bulma from her chair. He continued out of the office with Bulma trailing behind.

"So what's going on?" Bulma asked once they were out of the office.

"Your mother is coming. We're supposed to go to class."

"Oh. Do you know how to get to your next class?"

"It's in the library."

"Do you know where that is?"

"I'm assuming down the hall from the art room. It's about the only area of this place I haven't been."

"You're right. Well, my class is right here. I'll see you soon."

"Hn." Vegeta continued his trek to the library for study hall. He thought that sounded like a big waste of time, but he had to go. In the library he saw a group of tables in the corner where other students were already sitting. He picked a chair as far away from everyone else as possible. There was one other person on the other side of the table, the girl with bright red hair from his art class. She was drawing a picture in a sketchpad. At least she was preoccupied and unlikely to bother him. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes to meditate.

"Vegeta Brief, please come to the office."

His eyes snapped open when he heard the loud voice on the intercom. He saw the students glancing around in hopes of identifying who was being summoned to the office. Many of them recognized him from lunch when they saw him stand and stalk out of the library.

He was walking through the hall when he saw a girl with sky blue hair heading in the same direction. Apparently Bulma was required to attend the meeting as well. She slowed down when she heard someone behind her and turned. A small smiled replaced her grim expression when she saw him.

"So I guess we're in for it, huh?" she asked.

"In for what?"

"I don't know. But we're in big trouble. Man, this isn't fair. It's all Jordan's fault."

Vegeta had to agree. It was bothersome being sent to and from the office and back again over something so trivial. Humans could be so petty sometimes. He led the way into the office and went straight for the principal's office. The door was open this time and he could see the woman with blonde hair piled on her head in curls. Bulma hurried after him as he barged in on the meeting.

"Vegeta, wait outside," Mrs. DuBois ordered.

He sneered at her and sat in the chair next to Mrs. Brief. "No."

"Oh, Vegeta!" Mrs. Brief squealed, "Are you alright? I can't believe this happened on your first day of school!" She pounced on him and held him in a tight embrace, refusing to let go despite his frantic struggling.

"Mom, he's fine," Bulma said from the doorway where she stopped.

Mrs. Brief only hugged the saiyan prince tighter. "I'm so glad nothing happened to you. I couldn't live with myself if you got hurt. Honestly, these teachers need to do their job and keep bullies like that Jordan boy under control."

The longer she held him the less he struggled. He was mortified by her affection yet soothed by her scent. He breathed it in deeply and nuzzled into her chest. Mrs. Brief rubbed his back and looked at the principal, daring her to tell him to leave again.

Mrs. DuBois sighed and relented, motioning for Bulma to come in as well. She cleared her throat and picked up where she left off when she was interrupted. "As I was saying, Mrs. Brief, I understand that this is Vegeta's first time in school and as such might not know the rules, but I can't let this go undisciplined."

"I see where you're coming from, Mrs. DuBois, but I don't think he did anything wrong. That boy was going to hurt my daughter." Mrs. Brief was many things, but first and foremost she was a protective mother. Any action that kept her children – Bulma _and_ Vegeta – from being hurt was worthy of reward. It was obvious no progress was being made in the meeting. Both women were becoming increasingly frustrated. Mrs. Brief never let go of Vegeta, who was by then unmoving. There was the faint rumbling of his purr as she stroked his back. She was, perhaps, the only one in the office who was not surprised by his behavior.

"If anyone should be punished, it's that horrible little boy who tried to hurt these two."

Mrs. DuBois tapped her pen against her desk and reclined back in her chair. The leather groaned as she changed positions. "Mrs. Brief, I will not deny that he is the one who instigated the fight, but Vegeta should not have fought back."

Mrs. Brief scoffed, a rare sound to hear from her. "And let my daughter get hurt?"

"He could have seriously injured Jordan."

"He could have, but he didn't. I see no reason to punish him for what he did. He was protecting Bulma and himself."

The principal rubbed her temples and sighed heavily. There was no winning when she was up against the richest woman in the world. She was eccentric, to be sure, but she was firm in her convictions. And right now she was convinced Vegeta was innocent. "Alright, Mrs. Brief. I won't take any disciplinary action _this time_, but if it happens again I'll have to."

Mrs. Brief's smile immediately returned to her face. "I'm glad to hear it. I do hope you'll punish that other boy though. Honestly, why would he want to pick on my babies?"

Bulma blushed a little at her mother's question. Vegeta didn't even notice it; he had fallen asleep in her lap as she continued stroking his back. Even her terrible, screeching voice couldn't keep him awake. Not when he was so thoroughly relaxed in her arms.

"Thank you for coming over to discuss this," Mrs. DuBois said as she stood up and extended her arm to shake Mrs. Brief's hand.

"It was no problem at all," Mrs. Brief replied, as polite as ever. She shook the principal's hand then ran her hand through Vegeta's thick hair. "Vegeta, honey, you need to go to class now."

He cracked his eyes open and yawned with a lazy stretch. He slid to his feet and left the principal's office, never saying a word to anyone there. Bulma hugged her mom quickly before running after Vegeta and catching up with him in the hall outside the office.

"My mom's great, huh? I can't believe she got us out of trouble so easily!"

"Hn." Vegeta didn't admit that he was asleep through most of the rather brief meeting between the crazy woman and the principal. Therefore, he didn't really know what happened. They were on their way back to class when the bell rang. It was already time to move on to their next class. Vegeta and Bulma parted ways, with her headed to the library and him headed in the opposite direction down the long hall.

When Bulma reached the library for her study hall, she picked a random book from the shelf and started reading to pass the time. So far she had not been assigned any homework and she had nothing better to do with herself for 45 minutes. The book she chose was not particularly interesting, but it was better than doing nothing. She didn't have any ideas for new gadgets and she didn't feel like drawing anything anyway. Though she was not absorbed in the book, it did its job and made the period pass quickly, and before she knew it the bell was ringing again.

Vegeta's seventh period was likewise dull. He had to sit through a class where he was basically being taught the exact same thing that the girl had taught him over the summer. He decided he didn't like English class very well. He was already proficient in the language. He had an extensive vocabulary and knew all the pertinent grammatical rules and their exceptions. He was more than glad when the bell rang. There was only one class left for him to go through before he was dismissed from the hell known as human middle school.

Bulma did not particularly care for gym class. Perhaps it would have been fun if she were playing with kids her own age (and size), but she wasn't. She was playing games with kids three or four years older. They were taller, faster, and stronger. They plowed her over in contact sports and ridiculed her when she couldn't keep up with them in other activities. It was the one class where her peers excelled and she didn't. She couldn't help that she couldn't compare to them physically. She was too much younger.

'I don't want to go to gym. At least Veggie's in my class. I know he's a million times faster and stronger and stuff, but he's also a million times stronger and faster than all the other idiots. Maybe he'll put them in their place.' Bulma shrugged to herself as she trudged through the crowds of students on her way to girls' locker room. Changing was undoubtedly the worst part of it all for her. She hadn't reached puberty. The other girls had. Their bodies were developing, but hers wasn't. Seeing the other girls around her made her feel even more childish than she already did.

Bulma sat down on one of the benches in the locker room to wait for the teacher to come and assign everyone lockers. Then she would probably talk to them about proper behavior in the locker room and maybe even another awkward lecture about hygiene. Bulma still felt uncomfortable whenever she remembered the first time Mrs. Boracci told them where they would sweat the most and thus where to clean themselves the best when showering after class. Maybe it was only awkward for her because she was too young for it to be very relevant.

A while after the second bell rang Mrs. Boracci came into the locker room with a box full of locks. "Ok, girls, you all know who I am and what the rules are, so go ahead and get a lock and I'll assign you a locker. I trust you all remembered your gym clothes?" No one said they didn't, so they formed a line to get a lock and locker so they could get changed and go to the gym to begin class.

Vegeta wasn't entirely sure what to expect when he entered the boys' locker room. He saw boys standing around, goofing off, and cracking obscene jokes with each other. He shrugged and sat down on a bench. His tail tightened around his waist. He gathered from the fact that he had to have a change of clothes that he would be changing around the humans. He wasn't exactly body shy, but he knew he would attract attention for a variety of reasons – he was small, muscular, scarred, and he had a tail. He didn't want attention. It made him uncomfortable.

"Sit down!" a deep voice barked. The sound echoed through the instantly silent locker room. Vegeta's lip curled at the abrupt noise and the fact that all the benches, including the one he previously had all to himself, were filled with human brats.

A very large man with an impressive gut waddled into view. He had creases on his forehead that made him appear perpetually angry or stressed and his hair was cut so short he may have been bald. Vegeta wasn't sure which it was. All he could think was how someone so obviously out of shape could be the gym teacher. He was no example of fitness.

"Ok boys, you should know the rules, but just to make sure you haven't forgotten since last year, I will _not_ tolerate horseplay in here. No running, pushing, shoving, fighting, and unnecessary yelling. I expect you all to shower after class. I don't care about your modesty, I won't let you leave my class stinking to high heaven. Now get your locks and change into your gym clothes, which you _should_ have with you, and go to the gym."

Vegeta groaned quietly. He _had_ to take a shower here every day? What would be the point? He would never break a sweat. He stood and went to grab a lock from the box. There was a tag attached to it with the combination written on it. He took the lock to a locker at the back of the room and pulled his gym clothes out of his backpack. He hesitated in changing until he saw others taking their clothes off. Privacy was not an option.

With a sigh, Vegeta pulled his shirt off and threw it in the locker he claimed. He could practically feel the eyes of those around him as they stared at his back. He ignored them and put on his gym shirt. He took off his jeans, but he had to uncurl his tail from around his waist to do so.

"What the hell is that?"

"Is that a tail?"

"That kid's a freak!"

"That's not real. No way."

Vegeta did his best to ignore the comments he heard. He tossed his jeans in the locker and pulled on his gym shorts, which thankfully already had a hole made for his tail. He wrapped it snugly around his waist and put his shoes on. After slamming his locker shut and putting the lock on it, he left to go to the gym. He saw several groups congregating in different areas of the gym. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Hey, Veggie!"

Bulma rushed over to the saiyan as soon as she saw him. She leaned against the wall next to him. "I hate gym. But I'm glad it's the last class of the day."

"Hn."

She saw some of the boys giving Vegeta strange looks as they walked by. She figured they had seen his tail. She hoped they wouldn't make fun of him for it. Sure it was strange, but that was just part of Vegeta.

"We're probably going to go outside today. It's really nice out." Bulma glanced around the gym. Neither of the gym teachers had come in yet. She wasn't surprised. They wasted more time getting started than the students so they ended up only getting to play whatever stupid game for about 20 minutes. Not that she was complaining. She took no pleasure in the activities they did anyway.

The students were getting restless by the time the teachers came in to the gym. "Girls, I need you to come over to this side of the gym. Boys go with Mr. Lee."

The boys and girls split up to take attendance. When roll was called, they were led outside to play kickball. Bulma fell into step with Vegeta as they walked out to the field. She was dragging her feet, not very eager to play kickball. It was one of her least favorite games.

At the field, two team captains were chosen. Bulma frowned as student after student was picked for teams, excluding her and Vegeta. It wasn't unexpected considering they were outcasts and were physically smaller than all the other students. They didn't look like they would be assets to either team. Still, she hated when students chose teams. She didn't need to be reminded how much they didn't like her.

Once the teams were chosen with Bulma and Vegeta on opposing sides, the game finally started. The rules were never explained. The teachers simply assumed everyone knew them by heart. Vegeta was able to pick up on them as the game progressed. The kicking team wanted to get their players around the bases. Players in the field tried to get kickers out by catching the ball, tagging runners out, or getting the ball to the bases before the runners. Easy enough. His team started in the field first. He caught the ball when it came his way and hurled it at the runner heading for second. Many of the students watched in astonishment as the new kid easily got two out.

Bulma grinned when she saw his sneer when his teammates congratulated him. Of course he wouldn't think anything of it. Still, her team now had two outs. One more and she would have to go stand in the field and hope the ball wouldn't come her way. She cringed when she saw the boy who Vegeta hit with the ball being helped back to the school building, presumably to visit the nurse.

Another boy went up to kick. When he sent the ball flying and he started running for first, Vegeta reached out and snagged the ball out of the air as it sailed past him. The saiyan dropped the ball on the ground and walked off the field with the rest of his team.

"Nice catch, Veggie," Bulma said as she passed him on the way out to the field.

Vegeta stood in line to kick, arms crossed over his chest and expression stoic. He was bored beyond belief with the game. He wasn't paying attention to it until he felt someone pushing him toward the plate. He growled at being touched but went up to the home plate. One of the taller boys in the class was the pitcher. He looked mad when he saw who was kicking: the shrimp who single-handedly got three outs before he got the chance to kick. He hoped to make a fool of him by pitching the ball too fast. He rolled the ball to Vegeta, so fast it bounced high over every bump in the field. It would be hard to kick.

Vegeta watched the ball as if it were coming in slow motion. Unimpressed with the aggressive pitch, he swung his left foot forward when the ball reached him. The ball flew away in a high arc over the field. It landed far behind the fence at the back of the field. A home run. Vegeta jogged around the bases, his run bringing home two other runners.

"Alright guys," Mr. Lee yelled, "Time to go in."

Most of the class gave a collective shout of protest but started the walk back to the school. The game was even shorter than usual. In the locker room, the boys took off their clothes and went to the showers. Vegeta knew he was being stared at. He couldn't do anything about it, though. He took a fast shower, dried himself with a small flare of ki, and put his clothes on. He leaned against the lockers and waited for the bell to ring.

When it did, he walked out of the locker room and went down the hall toward the main entrance of the school. He was soon joined by Bulma. "So I doubt you want to bring all your books home. You can put them in your locker."

"My locker?"

"Yeah, I forgot to mention it earlier. Our lockers are upstairs because they go in alphabetical order. I think it's a pain they start upstairs."

Vegeta shrugged and followed Bulma upstairs to their lockers. He wasn't bothered by the weight of his books, but she was right, he didn't want to take them home.

"Your locker combination is on your schedule. Do you know how to do it?"

"Hn." He found his schedule in his backpack and opened his locker. He shoved his whole backpack into it and shut it.

"Cool. Let's go home. I'm sick of this place."

Vegeta agreed. School was more pointless than he ever thought it would be. He hated it. It was a serious waste of time. He could have spent the day training, but instead he was stuck in school learning things that would never help him. At least he would only have to endure it for a few months. If the retrieval squad made it to Earth when he predicted they would, he wouldn't have to finish the school year. He would leave sometime in March. While he didn't want to leave the planet, he knew it was necessary and unavoidable. Until that happened, he would try to refrain from killing the idiots he encountered in middle school.

_A/N: I mentioned at the beginning of the story that this isn't going to be a school fic, and it isn't. Don't worry, there won't be much about their school adventures. I know I said I would update regularly despite going kayaking, but I was detained at my friend's house a day later than I thought I would be so I didn't have the chance to update. I'm sorry about that. If I get enough reviews on this (wink) chapter by tomorrow I'll update again and stick to our regularly scheduled updating. I've been having a hard time editing the next several chapters because I've changed a few things around, so hopefully I can get those sorted out soon and continue writing more._


	23. Another Saiyan

Another Saiyan

The next few weeks passed slowly for Vegeta. He went to school five days a week and spent his entire weekends training to make up for lost time. It wasn't that he didn't train after school during the week, but he wasn't satisfied with the amount of time he was able to do so. He never brought homework home; he either finished it in class or study hall. He really didn't care about grades. They held little significance in the grand scheme of his life, but he did well for the sake of being allowed to train freely at Capsule Corporation without the Briefs ordering him to study instead.

He noticed at school that the blue-haired girl was despised by most of her peers, mainly because of intense jealousy. She was obscenely rich and smart and way too young by normal standards to be in her grade. At first Vegeta was also hated by the majority of the students at West City Middle School, but over time he was at least respected. Unlike Bulma, he never lashed out at his tormentors verbally, instead choosing to put them in their place with little more than cold indifference or disdain. Some boys actually tried to get on his good side after seeing his athletic abilities in gym. Of course, he didn't really have a good side for them to be on. The only people he held in high regard were the Briefs.

At fist Vegeta was irritated every day he went to school, but eventually he came to accept it with a sort of learned helplessness. He could continue fighting it with no success or he could suck it up and get on with life. He chose the latter. He still hated school, but he considered it another torture he had to endure, nothing more. He had survived worse.

Vegeta knew Bulma hated it as much as he did. He could sense her boredom in the classes they shared and he saw her hurt when she was maliciously berated by her peers. He never went to her aid in such situations, but she seemed to take comfort in the simple fact that he didn't agree with their comments. In the few times where someone would get a little too physically aggressive with her, though, Vegeta would defend her in a flash. No one touched his pack mate. She could defend herself verbally, but not physically. So he protected her.

It was a Thursday evening at dinner when Mrs. Brief told him he would be attending yet another pointless function. He was already aggravated from another day of wasted time and pitiful human education and a frustrating training session. Then, out of nowhere, he was informed that he had to attend a banquet. The company's annual banquet. Vegeta hated formal events. Prince or not, he still considered them to be tedious. Mrs. Brief was bubbling over with excitement when she told Vegeta about the banquet. It was in a week and she needed to take him shopping to find him a suit. She was sure he would be adorable all dressed up. "It'll be so nice to have you with us, Vegeta. After all, you're part of the family now."

The young prince sighed. He was wondering how he allowed himself to be reduced to this. He, the Prince of all Saiyans, living by the whims of rather eccentric humans. He was grateful that Frieza and his henchmen couldn't see his current predicament. He would never live this humiliation down.

"I don't want to go."

"Don't be silly," Mrs. Brief said with a dismissive wave. "You're coming and that's that."

Vegeta groaned. In some ways he would rather be serving the lizard. Bulma leaned over to him and whispered, "It's ok, Veggie. I'll be stuck there too. We can keep each other from getting too bored."

He was hardly consoled. He didn't want to go, it was that simple. He still had a week to find a way out of it. His mind was already racing with ideas. How hard could it be? Judging by the way he was forced to go to school, it would be fairly difficult. He would need a very convincing argument to avoid the Capsule Corporation annual banquet.

After dinner Vegeta went out to the back yard to train until bedtime. He didn't realize his obsessive behavior had garnered the concern of the Briefs. Even had he known he wouldn't have eased up on his training. He was more determined than ever to get stronger. It was the only way he had any chance at surviving the brutal beating he would undoubtedly receive when he finally returned to Frieza. Strength was all that mattered in life. It was all that kept him alive.

He had already begun his kata when Bulma came outside. She was wearing shorts and an oversized t-shirt. Upon seeing her he immediately knew what she wanted. He finished his kata and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He watched her, waiting for her to make her request.

"Can I train with you a while? It's been a few days…"

"Whatever." Vegeta turned away from her and resumed his own training. They had established their routine quite a while ago. Training 'with' Vegeta meant training at the same time in the same area. He hardly ever took an active role teaching her until she had mastered something, which usually took a long time. Her mastery was decided in spars against him when she was sure she knew a particular technique perfectly. Bulma never won a spar, but he would 'pass' her with a comment such as how she was "adequate for a weak female brat." Bulma learned to take pride in his somewhat derogatory remarks. They were as close to compliments as he ever got.

Bulma watched Vegeta train for a minute before she took the stance he taught her and started her own kata. By comparison it was exceedingly simple, but considering she had only been practicing martial arts for a few months, she was advancing rapidly. She wasn't naturally gifted at it, but she had an excellent – albeit distant – teacher and a solid determination to improve.

Half an hour passed and Bulma finished her training. She had to admit in a way she was learning to enjoy it, but she lacked the endurance to keep going for extended periods like Vegeta. She sat in the grass and watched with awe as he raced through his kata. The more she watched the more she knew she would never reach his level. Sometimes he even seemed to defy gravity, hanging in the air for what seemed like an unnaturally long time.

When he came to a resting point in his routine, Bulma beckoned him over to her. "So my birthday is in a couple weeks."

"So?"

Bulma shrugged, trying to appear disinterested. "People usually give something to their friends for their birthday."

"Sounds like a pointless tradition."

"Maybe so, but I want you to do something for me instead of giving me a present."

"Who said I was going to give you anything?"

"Oh come on, Veggie!" Bulma pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. "Even if you weren't, I'm asking you now to teach me how to use ki."

Vegeta stared at her blankly. She hadn't mentioned ki since she asked him what happened the night after his space pod self-destructed. She seemed skeptical about his explanation and seemed to only reluctantly accept it. He hadn't gone into much detail about it, only telling her that he used the life energy he had and that all living things had it.

"I don't know how to teach you that."

"How hard could it be? You had to learn it somehow. Teach me the same way you learned."

Vegeta snorted. He couldn't tell her that saiyans had a natural ability to manipulate their ki. He couldn't tell her that he had hundreds of times more ki than her. And he certainly couldn't tell her how he learned to use his ki because he couldn't remember. He was an infant when he started manipulating it.

"You can't learn that part of martial arts until you have become an expert in the basics," he fibbed.

Bulma frowned. She didn't completely believe him but she had no way to know otherwise. He was definitely a master. Who knew how long he had been one? It was disappointing to know she would have to wait a long time to use her ki. If nothing else she wanted to understand what it was better.

"Can I at least see yours then?"

"What?"

"Your ki. I know you can make it visible sometimes. Can I see it? Please?"

He wasn't sure it was a good idea to let her see his power. It would likely raise more questions he didn't want to answer. Still, what could it hurt? As long as she didn't touch it she would be fine. Maybe she would think it was nothing more than light. She wouldn't understand its power. He hesitated before extending his arm with his palm up. He gathered a small amount of ki in his hand until a small, violet orb formed.

"That is so cool," Bulma breathed as she rose to her feet. Eyes locked on the glowing energy, she reached her hand out to touch it. She could feel the heat from it before it suddenly disappeared. "What happened?"

"It is not safe for you to touch someone else's ki. It could hurt you."

"Oh." Bulma dropped her hand to her side. "How did you do that? I've never seen you do anything like that before."

He shrugged and walked away from her. "I have extensive practice in the control of my ki. I can do many things with it." His answer given, he sank into his fighting stance and started another round of his kata. He was actually surprised at the ease with which he gathered the energy needed to become physically manifest. It wasn't that it was particularly difficult before, but now it was essentially effortless and he hardly even needed to concentrate to do it. Perhaps he was getting stronger despite not having fought any battles lately. Encouraged, he put more energy into his training.

Bulma knew it was going to be a long time before he took another break. More often than not he was still training when she went to bed and he woke up much earlier than her to get in more training before school. She knew it was one of the very few activities he really liked, but his obsession with it was becoming compulsive. It was dangerous business to ever interrupt or delay his daily training. He meditated a lot during school. He claimed it trained his mind as much as kata trained his body. Training was consuming his life in all its forms.

She watched him for a long time before going inside. The late September night was chilly and the breeze made her shiver. She went to her room to read before bed. 'Maybe I should push him to try doing something else for a change. What if he hurts himself?'

Vegeta looked up at the sky as it grew darker. The light from the city drowned out the stars, but he could still see the moon. When he saw it he felt a rush of primal energy course through his veins. It was almost a full moon. With renewed fervor he kept training.

Bulma set her book on her nightstand and turned her light off. She slid under her covers and rolled onto her side to sleep. Her eyes opened when her room was lit with a flash of light. A storm? She waited, but she never heard any thunder. She closed her eyes.

Her eyes cracked open again when her room was flooded with a bright light shining in her balcony doors. 'Strange, there's no lights out there.' Curious, Bulma got out of bed and went to her balcony to look out. She slid open the door and stepped outside. The light grew brighter by the time she reached the railing. She looked down and saw Vegeta fighting an imaginary foe. His body was engulfed in a flame of blue fire. His ki. She gasped when she saw him.

Vegeta back-flipped and shot a small ki ball at the location of his invisible opponent. A tiny explosion followed as he landed and ducked under an unseen blow. He twisted around and swept his opponent's feet out from under him, then leaped to his feet and jumped over a retaliating sweep. He caught a fist in each hand and drove his knee into the other fighter's gut.

Though there was no one fighting with Vegeta, she could picture perfectly what was happening in his mind as his 'fight' progressed. She leaned against the rail with her elbows propped on it with her chin resting in her hands. She wondered if she would ever be able to do what he was doing. It was amazing, even beautiful in a way.

The saiyan jumped over his opponent and twisted around to face him as he landed. He blocked a punch with his left forearm and simultaneously threw his own right hook that presumably hit his opponent's face. He shifted his weight to his right foot and kicked his opponent with his left. Vegeta formed two glowing orbs of ki in his hands and threw them one after the other at his floored enemy. The ground trembled with the explosions.

Bulma shrieked and clung to the railing before she fell over. When the cloud of dust and smoke cleared, there was a small crater in the yard and Vegeta was nowhere to be seen. She leaned over the railing as she scanned the yard for the boy. He was gone, disappeared.

"Where did he go?"

Vegeta walked into his room from his balcony and picked up his scouter from his desk. He went back out on his balcony and jumped over the railing. Bulma saw movement from the corner of her eye. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw Vegeta drop to the ground from his balcony. It wasn't a long enough fall to kill him, but it could definitely hurt him pretty bad. He landed in a low crouch before standing and walking to the middle of the yard. He set something on the ground and took a few steps away from it.

She couldn't make out what it was but her thoughts were interrupted when Vegeta started screaming and the aura that had died out after his fighting ended reignited and grew around him. The ground started shaking as his energy soared.

Vegeta clenched his fists and forced his power as high as he could. He felt his ki burning as it flowed through every fiber of his body. Sparks crackled through the air around him and the earth cracked at his feet. He roared as he pushed himself to his maximum power. When his energy topped off he inhaled deeply and slowly released his breath. He unclenched his fists and stepped over to his scouter and picked it up. He turned it to read the display on the screen. His eyebrows shot up.

"Twelve thousand? Is this thing busted?"

Vegeta couldn't believe his own power. His maximum had been around 8,000 before he crash-landed on Earth. It was already a radical level for his age, but somehow he gained half again as much. It made no sense. He hadn't been fighting any challenging adversaries and hadn't recovered from any near-death experiences lately. The gravity of the little mudball was weak, so how had he gotten so much stronger?

Still baffled, he shrugged and a smirk crept across his face. No way was he strong enough to defeat Frieza, but he would, perhaps, be able to survive his punishment. That was his first goal for when he returned to the lizard's service. He turned off his scouter and tossed it from one hand to the other.

'I _am_ eating enough here. I train a lot. Right conditions for gaining strength? I've also grown a lot. That might be part of it. Probably.' He nodded to himself and unwound his tail from his waist. It flicked behind him a few times. For the first time in a long time he felt good about himself. Knowing his incredible power made him hungry for a challenge. It had been far too long since his skills were put to the test. He put his scouter on and pushed the button twice. Numbers started scrolling across the display screen as the device locked on the energy signals of the planet's inhabitants.

One corner of his mouth turned down and his brows furrowed when the scouter found the current highest power levels. The highest was trivial, only about 100. That wasn't surprising, but what perplexed him was the number of significant power levels. Whereas he had only seen two the last time he used his scouter, there were half a dozen now. Had the scouter simply not detected them before, or did they have a way of hiding their true power at will? He decided to worry about that later. For the time being he was going to investigate the person with a power of 100, though fighting that could hardly be considered a challenge. He walked around to the south side of the compound and checked his surroundings for any onlookers. He knew the girl had been watching him when he powered up. He was now out of sight from her, so he shot into the air and headed south.

Vegeta followed his scouter into the mountains hundreds of miles southeast of West City. He came to a stop above a lush valley and dropped out of the sky. Surveying the area, all he saw was a placid lake and a thick forest. The air there smelled fresh and clean, unlike the city. Sounds of crickets chirping and owls hooting filled the still night air. It was peaceful. Inviting, even.

The prince pushed the button on his scouter to get a more accurate read-out on the location of the source of the substantial energy signal. The scouter directed him to the left. Vegeta started walking through the forest, silent as a natural-born predator. He caught the scent of smoke and the lingering aroma of grilled fish. Someone had to be nearby. He cautiously made his way deeper into the forest until he saw a small hut. There was a warm glow shining out the windows and a wisp of smoke rising from the chimney.

His eyebrows drew together as he moved closer to the small home. Before he got too close he climbed into a tree and crept out onto a low branch to see in the window. He nearly fell out of the tree when he saw a young boy, barely older than a toddler, with wild black hair and a furry brown tail waving contentedly through the air behind him. He was carrying a tall stack of plates from a table to a place out of Vegeta's line of sight.

It couldn't be! Another saiyan? But Frieza killed all of them except for Vegeta, Nappa, and Raditz. They were the _only_ survivors. Vegeta felt his respiration quickening. Another saiyan. It had to be. No other race had hair and tails like that. No other child could have power like that – at least not on the mudball. He was obviously a third-class, but that was irrelevant. He was a saiyan and he was alive. Vegeta's mind, after recovering from its initial shock, went into overdrive.

How did a saiyan child get to Earth? What was he doing there? Why was he living here? Did he have a space pod? Was he sent on a mission to purge the planet? When? Why hadn't he done it? And why did he have such a stupid, cheerful expression on his face?

"What is going on here?" Vegeta hissed. He sat on the branch and watched the little saiyan running back and forth between the table and what must have been a sink. He checked his scouter again for a reading on the toddler's power. One hundred was impossible for a third-class. He was more baffled when, in his close proximity, he received a read-out of two power levels located inside the hut. The smaller one, a power level barely over 10, was moving to and fro. It had to be the child. The greater power, the one he followed to the hut, belonged to someone else who was as of yet out of view. Vegeta came to the forest looking for a fight, but instead he found a lost member of his race. Any desire he felt to fight faded as he watched the toddler carrying dirty dishes.

Vegeta was fascinated by the younger saiyan. He seemed so carefree it was almost sickening. Yet, at the same time, it was comforting for Vegeta to see that at least one of his subjects got away by some miracle. He was apparently living a life of peace, free from the tyrannical oppression of Frieza. Vegeta, as Prince of all Saiyans, could demand the boy serve him and return with him to space. It wouldn't be a bad thing to have another member in his squadron. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't drag one of his people into slavery with him. Let the child be free. He was probably forgotten, as well as his mission along with their home planet.

'Well kid, it's nice to know one of us got away.' Vegeta dropped out of the tree and ran away from the hut. If there was a saiyan, there had to be a saiyan space pod. The only problem was he had no idea where it might be. He levitated off the ground and flew high above the forest to look for a crater the pod would have created. He spun around and searched the land for a crater, but he didn't see one. He growled in frustration. It had to be around somewhere.

He spent the next hour flying a circuit around the valley, increasing the radius of his search each time he went around. He was about to give up when he saw a large pockmark in the planet's surface. It was several miles away from the valley in a barren land with strange rock formations. He darted down to the crater and his heart leaped with excitement when he saw an intact space pod in the middle.

He jumped down into the crater and looked inside the pod. There was an infant life support system, but that was easy enough to uninstall. The exterior of the pod was in decent condition considering its age. It had been abandoned to the elements for two or three years. Vegeta crawled into the pod and flipped the control panel open. It looked to be in working order. His palms began to sweat as his excitement grew. He found his ticket off the mudball.

But along with his excitement he felt the stirrings of apprehension, sadness, and guilt. He still wasn't strong enough. He didn't want to leave the Briefs. Especially without saying goodbye first. The humans had rubbed off on him as he grew attached to them. He sighed heavily and tried to ignore the tremble in his breath. He knew all along he would have to leave eventually, either by getting his pod running again or being taken away by the retrieval team sent to get him. Why was he having second thoughts now?

Vegeta decided he wouldn't leave yet. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe in a few days. Or weeks. He shook his head. He couldn't afford to delay his departure too much. The sooner he left, the better. He got out of the pod and looked up at the sky. The velvety blackness was speckled with brilliantly shining stars. Many he had been to, many he would go to, spreading destruction across the galaxy in the name of the lizard. What a life he had to look forward to.

With that thought Vegeta took off to the northwest. He would spend another day at Capsule Corporation and then he would leave. About an hour later he landed on the balcony of his guestroom. He went inside and collapsed on the bed. He was exhausted mentally and welcomed sleep. But as much as he wanted it to come, it wouldn't. His mind kept returning to the image of the little saiyan boy living in the forest. He looked happy, content. Was that how all saiyan children were when they didn't have to serve a monster? Vegeta had no idea what other saiyan children were like. He wasn't a typical saiyan child. He was the crown prince of Vegeta-sei. He didn't have a real childhood. From the day he was born until he was taken away by Frieza he was groomed for the throne. He was put through the most rigorous training regimens he could handle. He was given a proper education in all scholarly fields. He never had time for play. He never even knew any other children his age. He was confined mostly to the palace. When he left, he was always accompanied by either his mother or the royal guard. Mingling with the lower-class saiyans was strictly prohibited. Was that boy a picture of what he could have been like had he not been thrown into the life he knew?

Bile rose in his throat as he continued to think about the third-class saiyan child. He envied him for being able to live so freely. Only a child who was naïve, who had a clean conscience could ever look so cheerful even when performing such a mundane task as carrying dirty dinner dishes to the sink to wash. He lived a simple life far removed from civilization. Apparently he was living with one other person, a human of outstanding strength who was also kind enough to take in an orphan from outer space.

Was that the nature of humans? To care about anyone who had no one else in the world? He felt a greater appreciation for the Briefs as he considered that possibility. Maybe humans weren't as bad as he thought. Sure, they still annoyed the hell out of him. He was a solitary kind of person and they seemed only interested in smothering him with attention, questions, and affection. He wanted no part in any of that. Over the past few months he had grudgingly learned to accept that from the Briefs, but if anyone else gave him so much as a friendly pat on the back he was up in arms.

Was that also because of his upbringing? Was it possible for a saiyan to live in harmony with others who weren't also saiyans? His whole life he had it pounded into him that saiyans were the superior race of the universe, a proud warrior race. Then, when his planet and people were destroyed, he was left clinging to that pride as his only security blanket when from every side he was reminded of the frailty of his people. If they weren't weak, then why were they destroyed by a mere asteroid? He snorted, knowing Frieza was behind his planet's demise. He wasn't an idiot. He could put two and two together. He was called off planet without warning and when he was finished with his purge he received a transmission on his scouter reporting the destruction of his planet. How convenient that he was away when it happened.

Another saiyan. If there was one here, on an obscure planet at the edge of the galaxy, then perhaps there were other saiyans elsewhere. If that were so, then maybe his race had more hope than he thought. Perhaps some got away together, and they were multiplying. Maybe, in the distant future, they would rise again as a proud race. His face fell when he thought of the chances of that happening being slim to none. His race was gone. It was a fact he learned to cope with years ago, why get his hopes up now? The saiyans were gone. It just so happened that one, _one_ saiyan managed to get away. He was probably sent away to purge Earth right before their home planet was destroyed. It was doubtful that any others were likewise sent away. Even if they were, they would all be on different planets, either dead by now or stranded in the far reaches of the galaxy with no way of ever being reunited.

Vegeta wasn't looking forward to leaving the compound. Or the planet, for that matter. Despite the warnings he gave himself in the beginning, he had grown accustomed to living with the Briefs. He enjoyed the simple comforts and he grew attached to the old man, the crazy woman, and the blue-haired brat. They were his pack now. How could he leave them without a second glance? They were essentially his family. Aside from Nappa and Raditz, they were the only people in the entire universe he cared about in the least. And the former two, he really only cared about out of duty. The Briefs were different. They didn't know who or what he was when they took him in, but they accepted him and held him in unconditional positive regard. He came with faults and baggage galore, but they accepted him. They _wanted_ him. Would he ever find acceptance like that again in his lifetime? Probably not.

He chuckled humorlessly as he rolled onto his side and stared at the alarm clock on his nightstand. At least he had an excuse for not going to the stupid banquet next week. He would be off planet on an extended business trip. He regretted not being around for the brat's tenth birthday. He knew she was excited about it and she hadn't gone out of her way to hide how glad she was that she would have him with her to celebrate. Turns out she wouldn't. He was leaving her before then. He _could_ stay a while longer, but he had to get going. The longer he waited the harder it would be for him to ever leave. Keep putting it off and eventually he would be out of time and the retrieval crew would be there to take him away. No, it was best to leave as soon as possible no matter how much it hurt her and everyone else. Avoiding the inevitable was not his style. He liked to get things over with instead of procrastinating. Tomorrow he would leave. He would wait until night, giving him as much time with the Briefs as he could afford. He leave and they would never see him again. It was a shame, but it had to be done.

_A/N: Not much of an appearance on Goku's part, I know, but that's all you get for now. So there. I really can't wait to post the next chapter. It's my favorite by far, actually my favorite chapter I've ever written for any of my stories. I warn you, I will demand a certain number of reviews on it...Speaking of reviews, thank you all so much for the reviews on the last chapter. You reviewed, and I updated as promised. I've finished writing chapter 34 (finally) and I'm going to work on 35 today. Hopefully I can finish that and maybe even 36. I'm excited to get to the next section of the story._


	24. Last Day

Last Day

Vegeta woke before dawn as usual even though he only managed to get to sleep two hours earlier. He yawned and rolled onto his back. He felt the need to be grateful for every single comfort he had at the compound. The softness of his bed, the privacy of his room, the hot water for his showers (or baths), the endless supply of food, the acceptance from the Briefs, even the carpet that tickled his bare feet. He could relax and not worry about being attacked, and when he made a mistake he wasn't beaten to within an inch of his life. He didn't have to kill anyone without honor, and his worst humiliation was being subjected to the human educational system. He could train on his own and never had to listen to the taunting of stronger warriors. All in all, life was pretty good on the mudball. He didn't want to leave.

He got out of bed for the last time and put on shorts and a t-shirt for his morning training. He went downstairs and strolled through the halls, noticing for the first time the simple decorations, photographs on the wall, and clean smell on his way to the indoor garden. He closed the door behind him and breathed in the odors of animals and nature. The trickling water calmed his mind as he moved through the trees to his regular training spot.

As he started his kata he felt an abnormal lack of motivation. After only a few minutes he landed on the ground and raked his fingers through his hair. He didn't care about training. What could he really gain in one hour? It wasn't worth it. He walked out of the forest, petting the dogs, cats, and squirrels that approached him as he went. He left the garden and wandered through the halls for a while before going upstairs. Vegeta stopped when he reached the door to Bulma's room. The stupid girl. The reason he came to stay at Capsule Corporation in the first place. He opened the door and went inside quietly.

Vegeta padded over to the side of her bed and watched her sleep. She was twisted up in her covers and her hair – the first thing about her that he ever noticed – was splayed out on her pillow. Her arms were spread and her head turned to the side. A dribble of saliva was trickling from the corner of her mouth, ending in a growing wet spot on her pillowcase. He smirked. Stupid, stupid girl. His most precious pack mate. He sat on the edge of the bed and tangled his fingers in her silky strands of hair.

'I don't want to leave you.' The thought entered his mind before he could stop it. He could never stop the truth.

He jerked his hand away from her when she stirred in her sleep. He thought he heard her murmur his name, but he couldn't be sure. He stood up and practically ran out of her room. He was revolted by his own sentimentality. He had to break himself free of his attachments. They would tear him apart inside when he left if he didn't. He had to be cold-hearted, emotionless, and detached. They would get him killed if he tried to hold onto them.

Vegeta went to his own room to take a long, hot bath. He filled his bathtub before easing into the steaming hot water. All the tension in his body melted away as he relaxed and allowed himself to sink deeper into the soothing water. He cleared away all thoughts from his mind, not to meditate, but to disengage the foolish emotions warring inside.

He didn't know how much time had passed when he let thoughts invade his conscious again, but the water was lukewarm and he could hear the telltale sounds of the Briefs going about the daily rituals. Pots and pans were clattering in the kitchen downstairs and there was the muted thumping of dresser drawers slamming shut in the room next to his. He got out of the bath and dried himself with a fluffy white towel. He paid close attention to how every gentle fiber lightly caressed his skin.

'I don't want to leave.' He dismissed the thought as soon as it crossed his mind.

"Vegeta, honey, are you in there?" he heard the sing-song voice call to him from the hall. "Breakfast is ready."

The saiyan grabbed a t-shirt and jeans from his dresser and got dressed. He noticed that his pants were getting short. Even when he was standing they barely covered his ankles. He was still growing. There was no time to think about that now. He went downstairs to the kitchen and stood in the doorway when he saw the Briefs all seated at the table. Mrs. Brief was serving breakfast, Dr. Brief was reading his newspaper, and Bulma was struggling to stay awake in her chair. It was a wonderful, familiar scene, but it cut him deeply to see it played out without him taking part. As it would every day from there on out. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the air spiced with the sweetness of French toast, warm maple syrup, and freshly cut strawberries sprinkled with powdered sugar.

'I can't do this.'

Vegeta slowly walked to his usual seat and sat down. The cushion on his chair wasn't as comfortable as it used to be. Previous to his stay, no one ever occupied his chair. It was yet another reminder of the time he'd spent with the Briefs. The cushion used to be thick and squishy, but now it was flattened and had much less bounce to it. He wiggled a little to get comfortable as he had taken to doing at every meal held in the Capsule Corporation kitchen.

He knew he should eat as much as he could. This would be the last day he would have meals with plentiful portions of nourishing food. But he had no appetite. There was a tightness in his chest and his stomach felt like it was twisting and turning. He stared at his plate of food. It was so wonderful, so delicious, but he couldn't bring himself to indulge in it. He watched the maple syrup dripping slowly off the edge of the top piece of toast, forming a sticky puddle on the plate.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Time seemed to pass in slow motion. Though his eyes were locked on the meal in front of him, he could feel the gaze of each of the Briefs on him. It was undoubtedly the first time they had seen him come to the table and not dig into his food as soon as the meal started. As he usually ate with such voracity, they were concerned by his behavior. He refused to acknowledge their concern even if it wasn't voiced outright. He had nothing to say. He was so upset he couldn't eat. He wasn't hungry. His shoulders slumped forward.

"Sweetie, aren't you going to eat? You'll need plenty of energy for school today," Mrs. Brief said. She smiled and nodded encouragingly to Vegeta.

The saiyan picked up his fork and poked at his French toast with an obvious lack of enthusiasm. His stomach seemed to turn more violently at the idea of putting anything into it. He swallowed back the rising bile in his throat. He shook his head slowly and dropped his fork, not having taken one bite. He pushed his chair away from the table and stood up.

"Not hungry," he mumbled as he trudged out of the kitchen.

Vegeta went to his room and sat in the chair at his desk. He picked up his scouter and turned it over in his hands. He would have to let the nearest base planet know that he would be on his way. He would wait to send the message until right before he left. Then they would contact the team sent to get him and they would turn back and be assigned a different mission. That would keep the mudball safe. No use putting it in danger by having any of Frieza's men coming and noting that it might be worth purging. It was a nice enough planet. The natives were worthless, but the planet itself had many natural resources and it was pleasant to look at. Probably it could get a moderate profit in the planet trade.

He set aside the scouter for later and rapped his fingers against the desk. He couldn't decide if he wanted to spend more or less time with the Briefs. It would hurt him more if he spent extra time with them, but it would also hurt them more if he left after avoiding them. He sighed. Either way someone was going to be hurt because of his abrupt departure from Earth. Why not put all the pain on himself? After all, he was the one accustomed to pain. He was the one who always shouldered the responsibility.

Vegeta raked his hand through his mane and scratched the back of his neck. He closed his eyes for a moment before standing and going downstairs. The elder Briefs were still in the kitchen. He halted in front of the door and braced himself against the doorframe. He could go in, but Mrs. Brief would probably try to get him to eat. His stomach felt upset when he thought about food. He shook his head and took a step back from the door. He was still undecided on what to do when the door opened and Dr. Brief came out of the kitchen with his newspaper tucked under his arm.

"Oh, hello there Vegeta," he said. He stopped in his tracks and stuffed his hand in his pocket.

The saiyan took another uneasy step back. "What?"

Dr. Brief rocked forward on the balls of his feet and back on his heels. He gave a shrug and waited for Vegeta to speak for himself.

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and averted his eyes. "I'm leaving."

"Where will you go?"

"Back," Vegeta whispered. "Back to where I came from."

"Son, I don't think that's a good idea. Why don't you just stay here with us?"

Vegeta winced at the familial term the old man sometimes used with him. It hurt him even more to know they considered him one of them. He almost blurted out that he wanted to stay with them, but in order to protect them and himself he had to go.

"I can't stay," he said. "I have to go back. If I don't…"

Dr. Brief dipped his head in a half nod. He understood the boy felt obligated to go home, but he couldn't wrap his mind around the idea that Vegeta would willingly subject himself to further abuse when he and his family had opened their home to him. They were more than able to provide for him, and they were perfectly willing to do so. They had grown to care for him on a deep level. The old doctor's heart felt like it was being crushed. He honestly did feel like he was losing a son. But far be it from him to ever stop Vegeta from doing what he thought he had to do.

"When will you be going?" Dr. Brief's voice cracked.

"Tonight."

"Are you going to tell the others?" The scientist asked, gesturing with his head to the kitchen behind him. They could hear Mrs. Brief humming through the door as she washed the dishes.

Vegeta swallowed the lump building in his throat and nodded slowly. He didn't dare speak. He was afraid his voice would quiver and reveal his feelings. The feelings he was trying desperately to bury underneath stoicism. His fists clenched at his sides until his knuckles turned white.

Dr. Brief moved closer to Vegeta and rested his right hand on the boy's head. He gave him a sad smile. "Then do what you must, son. Just remember you will always be welcome here if you ever decide to come back."

'I want to stay.'

"Thank you, sir." Vegeta bowed his head respectfully and turned when he heard Bulma running toward him with her backpack bouncing with each stride. She slowed down when she saw him and her father standing together.

Dr. Brief patted Vegeta's shoulder and shuffled away to his laboratory. He knew better than to stick around when Vegeta broke the news to Bulma. She would throw a fit, sure, but he was more worried about Vegeta wanting to tell her in private. He pulled a handkerchief from his lab coat pocket and dabbed at his eyes. He would miss that boy.

Bulma walked the last few steps toward Vegeta. He seemed more interested in studying the texture of the carpet than acknowledging her as she approached. She reached out and lightly touched his arm. Her slender fingers felt cool and gentle on his skin. "Hey, Veggie, what's up? Are you feeling ok?"

Vegeta shrugged one shoulder and lifted his chin to meet her gaze. He was struck by the depth of her azure eyes. They were like the purest pools of cool water on a still day. Inviting, comforting. He was unable to maintain eye contact for long. "I'm fine, girl."

"You sure?"

"Do you really care?" he asked sincerely.

"Course I do, Veggie. I wouldn't ask if I didn't."

He exhaled slowly through his nose and started for the door. No use making her late for school. She hadn't had a single tardy since he was enrolled, but if he remembered from earlier that year she had quite a bit of difficulty making it to school on time on her own. She walked next to him, but her eyes were fixed on him, looking for even the slightest display of emotion.

"I have to leave."

'I don't want to though.'

"You say that a lot, Veggie."

He shook his head and turned his eyes to her. "I'm leaving tonight."

"W-what? Tonight?" Bulma felt a surge of panic explode in her chest. She shook her head furiously, refusing to believe what he said. "No. No, Veggie, you can't go. Not yet."

"I have to," he snapped.

"No! No you don't!" Bulma choked on a sob and hid her face in her hands. She didn't care if she tripped and fell because she couldn't see where she was going, she wasn't going to let him see her tears.

Vegeta didn't have to see them to know they were there. He could smell the salty tears before they started falling. It made the tightness in his chest clench tighter. He gasped for air. He felt like he couldn't get any oxygen into his lungs. He was being crushed by some invisible force.

"You can't go, Veggie," Bulma whispered, "You're my only friend. I need you."

Her words felt like a physical blow to Vegeta. They stung as they seeped through his mind. "Stupid girl," he grumbled. His tail uncurled from his waist and wrapped around her.

Bulma gasped when she felt the furry appendage around her waist. He never allowed her to touch it before, much less have it wrapped protectively around her. The corners of her lips turned up, though her tears continued to trickle down her cheeks. By the time they reached their school her face was red and blotchy and she was continuously wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. She laughed at herself humorlessly. How embarrassing to be seen crying in public.

They went to the second floor to their lockers to get their books, then went back downstairs to their algebra room for homeroom. Bulma was sniffling every few seconds by the time they reached their seats. At first the noise irritated Vegeta, but after a while he was oddly flattered by it. She was crying for him, crying because he was leaving. It was the only time he had ever known someone to be truly distressed when he was _going_. Most people in the universe would cry if they knew he was _coming_. He listened to each sniffle with new appreciation for the girl and her air-headed parents. They were insane, but they were his pack. He cared for them in a way he never cared for anyone other than his own parents before he was taken away from them.

'I want to be with them.'

Vegeta wrapped his tail around her waist again when he heard her quiet hiccup as she tried to hold back another sob. He knew no other way to console her. As his tail tightened around her he was amazed by how frail her tiny body was. She felt as if there was no muscle on her bones at all. No wonder she was so weak. He was filled with an instinctual need to protect her. He needed to be with her. He had to stay with her and make sure no harm ever came to her. Pathetic girl, she was so helpless. Unfortunately, she could easily end up dead if he didn't leave. He had no choice. He had to go.

'I don't want to go.'

Bulma didn't talk much through class. Vegeta would occasionally feel her take a particularly deep breath by the expansion of her chest. This was followed by a long, shaky exhalation and a sniffle. He tried to reassure himself that she would get over it soon and easily. She was one of the most resilient people he had ever met. She was depressed now, but surely in a few days she would be fine. He hoped so, at least.

When the bell rang, Vegeta packed up his materials in his backpack and stood up. Bulma was slower to get up when she felt his tail gently tugging her to stand. She wiped her nose with her sleeve, an act that would normally disgust Vegeta. Today, though, her childish behavior was tearing him to pieces. He pulled her close to him with his tail and led her from the classroom. In the hall they were surrounded by students bustling around to get to their next class. Despite the volume of the noise of lockers slamming shut, people talking, laughing, and shouting, footsteps on the tile floor, books being dropped, zippers of backpacks, and rustling papers, the only sound Vegeta really heard was the shallow panting of the blue-haired girl.

"Idiot girl," he grumbled, not unkindly. "You knew it would happen eventually."

She looked at him with a brokenness he hadn't faced since his days of killing. How many times had he seen that same expression of despair, grief, and helplessness when he killed a person's loved ones? Had he not been trained to hide his own emotions he would have worn the same expression too often. Her puffy, cerulean eyes glistened with unshed tears.

"I didn't want to believe it."

Vegeta frowned and shrugged one shoulder. He'd given her fair warning. There wasn't much he could do if she simply chose not to believe him. His tail unwrapped from her waist and coiled snugly around his own. "Go to class, girl."

He saw her nostrils flare as she inhaled deeply through her nose. No doubt fighting another bout of sobbing. He was sure by now she was out of tears to shed. Her face was streaked with the salty remains of them. He could still smell them and it made his heart ache. How could he abandon this fragile little creature? More importantly, why did he care? How did she worm herself so deeply into his life? He'd never cared about weaklings before. They were abhorrent to him. Disgraces. He saw them as unworthy of living. Why, why, why then did he care so much about this one?

When her bottom lip started trembling he turned on his heel and stalked to his next class. He had to get away from her. He couldn't stand to see her like this. He heard her choke out his name, but he had already blended into the thinning crowd of humans. He hurried to class and sank into his seat. Literature passed slowly for him. His mind was not on his studies, but on the conversation he would eventually have to have with Mrs. Brief that evening. He couldn't leave without telling her he was going. But how was he to tell her that he was walking out of the compound never to return? He dreaded telling her more than he did telling Dr. Brief or even Bulma. They were strong people. Mrs. Brief was so soft, so easily hurt. He couldn't bear to do that to her, but he had to. After a while he shook thoughts of the blonde woman out of his head. He would worry about that later, when the time came to tell her.

Purely to distract himself from his upcoming voyage, Vegeta pulled his notebook out of his backpack and started copying the literary terms Mrs. McGuire was writing on the board. The class period seemed to pass even slower now that he was listening to the lecture. Mrs. McGuire's words were sometimes hard to understand and when she couldn't think of the next word she would pause midsentence, raise her hands in the air and wiggle her fingers while thinking of the word she wanted, fill it in, and continue as if there had never been a break in her speech. Her disjointed sentences irritated Vegeta, but at least wondering how far past her expiration date as a teacher she was kept his thoughts from returning to Bulma and her parents.

Unfortunately, the senility of his literature teacher could only captivate the saiyan's attention for a few minutes. After that, he figured his best method to avoid thinking of the Briefs, Frieza, and a little saiyan boy was to meditate. It took him longer than usual to clear his mind, but eventually he managed. He sank so deep into his meditative state that he didn't notice the bell ringing, marking the end of class. The noise of chairs screeching as they slid across the tile floor and the loud voices of students coming in from the hall was what finally broke his trance.

Vegeta stuffed his notebook in his backpack and rushed out the door to get to his next class on time. He barely made it into the science classroom before the bell rang again. He collapsed in his chair next to Bulma and scooted it a few inches farther away from her. Had he not hurried he would have been late, which would have earned a verbal reprimand from Ms. Beketov. He shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. It made no difference. He was surprised that Bulma didn't say anything to him when he came in. Her silence was more unnerving than her crying. He didn't know how to explain it. Had she already forgotten him?

Well, if she wasn't going to say anything, then he wasn't either. It was safer to distance himself. He propped his elbow on the desk and rested his cheek in his hand. He wondered what was going on in the girl's mind. Was she actually paying attention to the lecture? He doubted that. Was she thinking about him? About him leaving? Probably.

"I can't believe you won't even stay long enough for my birthday," Bulma hissed. Vegeta turned his head slightly to see her better. She wasn't facing him and her hands were clenched into fists in her lap. She was angry? Why?

"I don't have a choice."

She finally turned to him, eyes burning with fury. "Yes you do. You don't have to go at all!"

He scoffed and faced the front of the room. "Stupid girl, I've told you a thousand times that I have to go back."

"Why now?"

"It is better for me to leave as soon as possible."

"It's not fair!"

"I know."

"What am I supposed to do without you?"

"Same as you did before I came."

Bulma was not satisfied. He had no idea what it was like for her at school before he came into her life. He didn't know how much harder it was to get through the day without getting into some sort of verbal scuffle with other students. He didn't know how much people were leaving her alone because of him. He was like a shield for her. He was her protector. She needed him. She would return to the loneliness she dealt with every day if he went away. She resented him for going, especially on such short notice. She had no time to prepare herself for his leave.

"I don't want you to go."

'Neither do I.'

Vegeta didn't answer her. What could he say to make it better? Surely she knew he had no real desire to go back to his old life. She had seen glimpses of how much he hated it over the past few months. Who would willingly leave comfort for that? He wasn't leaving so soon to hurt her. He was leaving sooner to hurt her less. Less time with her meant less attachment. Neither said another word for the rest of the class period.

Vegeta trudged to his next class, parting ways with Bulma when he reached his history classroom. He grunted when she gave her usual goodbye. Of course it was less cheerful than usual, but that could only be expected given the circumstances. He went in and took his seat. He rested his forehead on his desk and covered his head with his hands, fingers weaved together. His nose wrinkled as he smelled the myriad scents lingering on the desk from anyone who had sat there or brushed their hands against it. Most of the scents were faded, but to him they were easily noticeable. Disgusting humans. He wasn't fond of their individual scents, for the most part. Actually, the only humans whose scents he could say he liked in any way were the Briefs.

He tuned out the voice of his teacher as she began her lecture. His mind was jumping from one thought to another almost too fast for him to keep up. Memories of Frieza flashed, then images of the Briefs, then the saiyan child whose pod was either his salvation or demise. He thought of how Nappa and Raditz were depending on him to return. He imagined the severity of his unfair punishment. He could hear the laughter of the lizard and his minions as they mocked him. He could almost feel the ki whip lashing into his skin, shredding his muscles, breaking down his pride. And he could smell blood. His own blood, poured out from his broken body. He gagged.

"Vegeta? Are you sick? Do you need to go to the nurse?"

The saiyan opened his eyes and raised his head. He saw Mrs. Bonilla looking at him with concern. He felt a trickle of sweat run down from his temple to his chin. He shook his head, which only made him dizzy. 'What is wrong with me?' He looked down at his hands, now folded on the desk and trembling. His skin was a sickly pallor. He swallowed with difficulty, his dry tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth.

"Just go to the nurse if you don't feel well," Mrs. Bonilla said. She went back to lecturing and the attention of the other students shifted from him to the board where she was writing the timeline of the next unit of world history.

Vegeta heard his pulse throbbing in his ears and his breathing quickened. Maybe he wasn't fine. He sneered at his own weakness. Of course he was fine! He was just experiencing the adverse effects of skipping breakfast. Right? He clutched his head when he heard the hideous cackle of the lizard echoing through his mind. He groaned and banged his forehead against his desk. The loud crack drew attention back to him.

Mrs. Bonilla rushed to his desk and laid her hand on his back as she knelt down next to him. He growled at her touch. "Vegeta, go to the nurse. It's ok, I'll excuse you from class. Do you need help getting there?"

"No." Vegeta sat back in his chair and groaned again when he couldn't focus his vision. He stood up, but his knees buckled under his weight and he crumpled on the floor. Loud whispering broke out through the class, but he hardly noticed. All he could hear was his blood rushing and Frieza's laughter. He felt himself being pushed onto his back. His eyes closed and all he could see was bright red. He felt an overwhelming sense of dread closing in on him. His heart raced.

"Lie down, Vegeta," Mrs. Bonilla said. Her voice was strangely distant and muffled. "I'll call the nurse to come get you."

He felt cold. Sweat was breaking out all over his body and he was on his back on a frigid tile floor. He didn't want to go see the nurse. He wasn't sick. He was hungry, and maybe a little stressed. Nothing to worry about. He draped his left arm over his eyes. The bright red turned black as the fluorescent lights were blocked out. He heard a loud voice over the intercom. Mrs. Bonilla said something, but by then her words were so slurred together he couldn't understand them. He tried to take a deep breath but it hitched in his throat.

What could have been minutes or hours later Vegeta felt someone's cool hand pressed against his forehead. He moved his arm and squinted to see who was there. A woman with graying brown hair and crow's feet around her eyes. He didn't immediately recognize her. He wasn't given a chance to demand she identify herself before she was hauling him up to his feet. She put her arm around him and helped him stumble out of the classroom. Before long he had put much of his weight on her as they walked.

He saw the tile moving below him as he fought to put one foot solidly in front of the other as they journeyed down the hall of the school to the nurse's office. They stopped in front of a door, which she opened. He winced as the bottom hinge squeaked miserably. She guided him into the office that had a dingy orange carpet. The room smelled of sweat, blood, and the rancid odor of stale vomit. No human could smell these things, but it made Vegeta recoil in disgust as soon as he stepped into it.

"Now Vegeta," the nurse said, "Take it easy. You can sit here." She took him over to a sort of bed similar to the one he sat on at the doctor's office. It was ugly brown vinyl and there was a tear in it on the side revealing spongy material that looked as though countless fingernails had picked at it over the years.

Vegeta heaved himself onto the sepia bed and laid on his side facing the wall. His tail tightened around his waist until he was nearly squeezing out his own breath. He clamped his eyes shut and held his head in his hands. The feeling of doom was subsiding as his mind cleared. How had he lost control so badly?

"How are you feeling?" the nurse asked. She laid a damp cloth on his forehead and soothingly rubbed his back. She could see that his skin was darker than when she first saw him and his breathing was more even.

"Fine."

"Do you want me to call your parents?"

Vegeta shook his head slowly to avoid dizzying himself again. "No."

"Alright. If you need anything give me a holler. I'd like you to stay here a while until you're up to speed." The nurse left her charge in the small room. The lights were dim and the air was warm, much to his relief. His head was throbbing and he was plagued with chills.

His mind drifted in and out of hazy thoughts. His memories were disjointed and incomplete as they continued to flash through his mind. He saw Bulma holding her hand out to him the first time they met. He saw Zarbon drawing his fist back to deliver a punch during a 'training' session. He heard Mrs. Brief humming to herself as she paced around the kitchen preparing an enormous meal to satisfy his appetite. Underneath it all he could still hear the echoing cackles of Frieza.

'I don't want to go.' All other thoughts faded as this one, the one he had been shoving from his mind all day, rose again and refused to be dismissed anymore. He had to come face to face with it. He wanted to stay on Earth. He wanted to live with the Briefs and have a happy, peaceful life like the saiyan boy he saw. He wanted to be free of Frieza's rule. Revenge be damned, he wanted a real life, one lived for the sake of living, not killing. He heard the bell ring. He didn't move. He was thinking about how upset Bulma had been in science. She was upset that he was leaving. Was that a bad thing?

Of course it was. He felt himself dying inside when he saw her anguish.

What was worse? Being attached to her, or her being attached to him?

He pushed himself up to sit on the edge of the bed and took a few deep breaths before sliding to his feet. His legs were considerably less shaky than before, so he crossed the room and slipped out the door. The halls were filled with students rushing from one class to the next. He had no desire to get caught up in the current, so he stood next to the wall waiting for the larger part of the crowd to disperse into classrooms before he dragged himself to his art class. He took a few steps, but when his balance faltered and he nearly crashed to the floor, he decided it might be better to stay in the nurse's office until he was feeling better. He sighed, embarrassed by his own weakness, and dragged himself into the office and rested on the ugly brown bed all the way through the next period.

At lunch Bulma sat down at an empty table and took her lunch capsule out of her backpack. When she opened it she realized why Vegeta hadn't eaten any breakfast. The idea of eating was not appealing. Her stomach twisted and she felt as though she might be sick. She capsulated her lunch and rested her head in her arms on the table. It was a few more minutes before she saw Vegeta sit down across from her. He dropped his backpack on the floor next to his seat and mimicked her position with his head on his arms.

"Aren't you going to eat, Veggie?" she asked.

"No." The smells of food hanging in the air were enough to make him nauseous even without having it in front of him, ready to be eaten. He was hungry. His stomach even growled, but bile rose in his throat if he so much as contemplated feeding it. No, he definitely wasn't going to eat anything. So what if it was the last day he could expect to receive a full, nourishing meal for over a year? He was afraid that if he managed to choke anything down it would come up with a vengeance.

Again they sat in silence. They had nothing more to say to each other. They heard the loud noise of dozens of lively conversations going on around them, but they had no interest in having one of their own. Not anymore. Bulma, for once in her life, was left without words. Her best friend, her only friend was leaving her and maybe never coming back. He didn't even seem to care that he was leaving her on her own. The bell rang and the students started to file out of the cafeteria.

"I'll see you in gym," Bulma mumbled as she slung her backpack over her shoulders.

"Hn."

He saw her again in gym class two periods later. After changing in the locker room, Bulma found Vegeta leaning against the wall in the gym and approached him. He seemed more closed off than usual despite being in the same arms-crossed position with stoic expression he always assumed. She nudged him with her shoulder when she leaned against the wall next to him.

"How about if you stay until my birthday then I won't try to stop you?"

He snorted and raised his eyes to the ceiling. "No, girl. I'm leaving tonight."

"Can't you at least wait until after the banquet?"

"No."

"At least stay for the weekend."

"No."

"But Vegeta…"

"I'm leaving tonight."

"I almost think you want to go."

"Stupid girl."

He pushed off from the wall when the gym teachers walked in. They would take attendance and then tell them what they were going to do that day. Vegeta went to the side of the gym where the boys gathered while Bulma went to where the girls were.

"Alright people, we're going to be playing dodgeball today. You know the rules," Mr. Lee shouted above the chattering of students.

Another brilliant waste of time. Vegeta stood to the side of the gym, not at all interested in participating in the foolish game. Besides, the last time he tried playing he knocked a boy out with a foam ball. Pathetic, weak humans. Even if the game weren't so stupid he couldn't play at a level that would be entertaining for him because he would inadvertently hurt someone. Bulma was on the other side of the gym, having been put on the other team by Mrs. Boracci. She leaned against the back wall, ignoring the shouts of her teammates and the teachers who insisted she at least try to play.

A foam ball rolled past Vegeta's feet. He bent over and picked it up. He tossed the ball as lightly as he could toward Bulma. It struck her leg and harmlessly bounced off and rolled away. She hadn't even seen who threw the ball. She moved over to the side of the gym where the students who were out sat on the first row of bleachers to wait for the next round or a 'jail break.' Vegeta watched her so intently he didn't see a yellow ball flying toward him until it was too late to dodge. It hit him in the side of the head. He suppressed the urge to fire back with a ki blast and went to the side of the gym. He sat next to Bulma and stared straight forward.

"You shouldn't go back to someone who's going to abuse you."

"I have to."

"No, Veggie, you don't. You have a home here."

"You don't understand."

"So enlighten me!"

"I can't."

"Please, Vegeta, stay. Stay with me."

'I want to.' Vegeta shook his head and stood up when the whistle blew as the first round of dodgeball ended. He walked to his side of the gym and waited impatiently for the class to be over. He wanted to be at the Capsule Corporation compound. He wanted to believe he could stay there forever and never have to worry about the lizard again. He wanted to deny reality and live in a dream. But he couldn't. He heard the shrill whistle as the game restarted.

Vegeta was the last one standing in the second game. When the whistle blew the teachers told their students to go change and shower. Vegeta slowly walked out of the gym and went to the locker room to change. He didn't bother with a shower. He threw his backpack over his right shoulder and sat on one of the benches to wait for the dismissal bell. School was over. His last day of school was finished. He did feel some degree of guilt for leaving Bulma to go through the rest of the school year without him, but he shook it off. She could handle it.

Vegeta left the locker room and made his way to the main entrance of the school. He allowed himself to be jostled around as larger students bumped into him and shoved past. Normally he would have avoided any physical contact with the humans, but this time he didn't care. His clothes would reek with their stench by the time he made it out of the school, but it made no difference to him.

Bulma met him at the doors and walked outside with him. She noticed that he still had his backpack. She'd never seen him take it home before. She wondered why he chose not to leave it in his locker. He wouldn't be needing it anymore. As they started the walk home Vegeta once again wrapped his tail around her waist. It was hard to hold on to his steely resolve to depart that night. He knew he was only making it harder on himself by lowering the barrier he erected around himself. Touching her so intimately made the realization that he considered her as close as family more obvious – and painful. He pulled her closer with his tail and put his arm around her shoulders. There was little affection in his touch; rather, it was possessive, protective.

"You told my parents?"

"Your father."

"Going to tell my mom?"

"Tonight."

"She'll be even more upset than me."

"Maybe."

Vegeta sank into his own thoughts, so he didn't hear what else Bulma said to him. He didn't want to go. He had to go. He could stay longer. It would be harder to leave later. He could wait for the retrieval squad. What if they decided to destroy the planet? What about Nappa and Raditz? He had to leave.

They reached the border between the business district and the residential area where Capsule Corporation was located. The leaves of the trees had recently turned from emerald green to vibrant yellows, reds, and oranges. They were like fire burning without consuming the trees. Vegeta thought it was strange how the leaves changed. One day they were green and the next they were dying and falling from their branches.

A breeze blew up and fallen leaves danced around their feet and crunched underfoot as they walked. Vegeta liked the sound of them skittering across the pavement. It was as if they were still alive, perhaps more alive than they had ever been when they were feeding off the trees that gave them life. They were finally free as they glided on the wind. Perhaps death was the only freedom the universe offered.

The two kids walked to the front gate of the compound where Bulma swiped her ID card. The gates opened with a protesting creak and they went inside and crossed the front yard. Leaves crunched and rustled with each step they took.

"Are you going to be here for dinner?" Bulma asked once they reached the front door of the compound.

"Yes." Not that he wanted to eat despite his hunger.

Bulma went inside and kicked her shoes off. "I guess you should pack then."

"I'm not taking anything with me."

"But you'll need clothes and stuff!"

He shook his head. "I only need what I had with me when I came."

"If you're worried about taking stuff from us, it's yours. We got it for you."

"I don't need it where I'm going."

"If you say so."

Vegeta didn't reply. Instead he went upstairs to his guestroom and changed into his old bodysuit and armor before going down to the kitchen where Mrs. Brief was busy preparing dinner. His eyes followed her as she darted from the stove to the counter to the sink and back to the stove. She was, as usual, humming a happy tune as she worked.

"Oh, Vegeta, when did you come in?" she asked when she noticed him standing near the door.

His tail twitched a little. "A minute ago."

"Are you hungry, dear? You didn't eat any breakfast. I hope I packed enough for your lunch. How was school today?"

His shoulders slumped as he walked to the counter. He pulled himself up to sit on the only spot not covered with food or dishes. "Not hungry. I'm leaving tonight."

Mrs. Brief paused in her stirring. "Leaving? What do you mean?"

"I have to go back to where I came from. I'm leaving tonight."

"Oh, honey, don't be silly. You live here now. This is your home."

"I have to go," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I don't want to, but I must."

Mrs. Brief turned to him and set her mixing bowl on the counter next to him. The sweet smell of chocolate cake batter reached his nose. His mouth watered, but not from a desire to eat. He felt like throwing up. He tried to snort the scent out of his nose, but it kept returning. He sighed.

"Vegeta, sweetie, you can't go back to that awful place. I don't know where it is but I won't let you be hurt again."

_Frieza's tail swung through the air and crashed into his chest. He heard his ribs snapping like twigs. He bit his tongue until he tasted his coppery blood to keep from crying out in agony. He fell to his knees and held his chest with one hand. His other arm was already broken and hung limply at his side._

Hurt. Mrs. Brief didn't want him to be hurt. How naïve. Pain was all he knew in his life. He shook the memory from his mind and refocused on the blonde woman standing in front of him. She wasn't smiling.

"I appreciate your concern," he admitted, "but I have obligations. Even if I thought it were safe for me to stay here, there are two others who need me to save them."

"There are others? Oh, my! But Vegeta, we could have someone else help them. It isn't safe for you to go alone."

'You have no idea.' Vegeta sighed heavily. Who would have thought she would put up such a fight against him going?

"No one else can go where I'm going. You have to trust me."

Mrs. Brief didn't miss the irony. How many times was it she trying to convince him he could trust her? Now the tables were turned. She wanted to trust his judgment. Really, she did. But how could she let him go into the clutches of a monster who found pleasure in Vegeta's pain? She felt her heart breaking as she nodded her assent.

"Promise me you'll take care of yourself."

Vegeta's stomach tied in knots. "I promise."

"Oh, Vegeta!" Mrs. Brief wailed. She pulled him into her arms and sobbed without restraint. He felt her hot tears rolling down his scalp. He didn't know what to say or do, so he returned her embrace. His tail twitched behind him before curling around her wrist. He smelled her grief seeping from her every pore. Cinnamon, sugar, and grief. He hated himself for doing this to her.

Vegeta clung to her and buried his face in her chest. He was surrounded by her scent, held in her loving arms, and washed in her tears of sorrow. She was more like a mother to him than he ever realized before. He didn't remember his own mother well, but he knew she used to hold him like this, and he would cling to her and seek comfort from her as he was doing now. How could he abandon this woman? She was so weak, so frail. His arms completely encircled her narrow waist. She was so weak she could be broken effortlessly. What if something happened to her and he wasn't there to protect her?

'I can't leave them!'

The saiyan extracted himself from her arms, though his tail did not immediately uncurl from her wrist. He frowned and slid off the counter. He could feel tears welling up, stinging his own eyes. He would not cry. He would be strong. He turned from her and fled from the kitchen. He didn't really know what to do with himself. He couldn't stand to be with the Briefs, yet he wanted to be with them. They were all hurting. He thought it would be cowardly to hide from them until it was time for him to leave, but what else could he do? He slinked into the living room and curled into the large recliner in the corner of the room, sinking into the shadows and cushions, trying desperately to make himself invisible. To wipe himself from existence.

The room grew progressively darker as the sun set, taking with it the only light shining in. Vegeta heard Mrs. Brief setting the table in the kitchen, but there was an eerie silence as she was no longer humming. Another wave of guilt swept over him. Why couldn't he just wait? He clawed at his temples until he could smell blood and his fingers felt sticky. He told himself over and over that he didn't have a choice. He was doing it because he had to. It was the only way. It was becoming harder to believe the more he thought it.

"Dinner is ready," Mrs. Brief's voice called through the compound. It sounded oddly hollow.

Vegeta opened his eyes and stared at the texture of the upholstery. His eyes easily adjusted to the dim light. He ran his fingertips over the suede fabric. It appeared a lighter shade of green when his fingers moved with the grain and a darker green when he drew his fingers up against the grain. Such a strange phenomenon. He wondered why he never noticed it before. Maybe because he never cared about anything earthling before.

His stomach growled, insisting he go to the kitchen and eat. He wasn't interested in food, but the Briefs would be gathered together and it was the last meal he would likely ever share with them. So, he climbed out of the oversized recliner and silently walked to the kitchen, his feet seeming to float across the thick shag carpet. He stopped outside the kitchen door and listened to the sounds coming from the other side. The soft clatter of dishes, a chair scraping across the tile floor, and a newspaper being folded up. Vegeta raked his hand through his mane and rolled his shoulders back before entering the kitchen one last time.

"Oh, there you are Vegeta," Mrs. Brief said, trying to sound cheerful. She failed miserably. Her husband and daughter didn't look any more cheerful than she sounded.

He sat down at the table and started another staring contest with his plate. This time it was empty, the glossy white surface reflecting the light from overhead. His eyes watered, but he told himself it was from the light. Only the light.

"Wouldn't you like something to eat, sweetie?"

Vegeta's stomach growled loudly. He cursed it. He may have been hungry, but he still didn't want to eat. Even so, he knew he really _should_ eat _something_ before he left the planet. There was no doubt one of his punishments for being gone so long would be starvation. Besides, he would be in stasis for at least four months. He would wake up hungry and there was no guaranteeing any available food on the base planet where he planned to stop on his way back to Frieza.

When he didn't answer Mrs. Brief started piling food onto his plate. Even if he didn't eat it all she wanted to see to it that he ate something before he left. She learned from Bulma that he not only didn't eat breakfast, but he also hadn't eaten any lunch. She was worried about him. She knew he was nervous about leaving; that much was more than obvious, but she wanted to send him off well-fed since she knew how much he needed. She had no idea where he was going, how long it would take to get there, and whether he would have food on the way. The least she could do for him was give him a good meal. He was like a son to her, after all. She would put her life on the line for him, but all she could do was let him go on a full stomach.

Vegeta picked at his food and raised some to his mouth. The smell, normally so enticing, made his stomach flop. He barely managed to shove it in his mouth without vomiting. All he could taste was the saltiness of the beef. It seemed to dry out his mouth and he nearly retched immediately after swallowing. Still, he forced himself to take another bite, and then another. Each bite of food was harder to keep down. By the time he had worked through half of the food on his plate he couldn't take any more. He set his fork down and dropped his hand in his lap.

Little was said at the dinner table that night. Vegeta couldn't remember a time when he was surrounded by more sadness. The Briefs, who never had a care in the world, were feeling an oppressive emotional weight, and it was all because of him. He wished he had never met them, never brought this on them. Too late to change that now. He glanced over at Mrs. Brief and saw her blinking back tears. Bulma was doing the same. Even Dr. Brief was downcast. Vegeta clenched his hands into fists and bit back the urge to scream. He didn't want to go. He wanted more than anything to stay with his pack.

'But I can't.'

Long after their dinner was finished they sat quietly around the table. No dishes were cleared off, no compliments were paid to the cook, no pleas for Vegeta to stay were voiced. They sat in heavy silence, each waiting for Vegeta to walk out the front door and never look back. It was almost nine o'clock when Vegeta pushed his chair from the table and stood up. He rubbed his forehead and slid his hand down across his face. "I'm sorry," he murmured before striding out of the kitchen, out of the compound, out of his temporary reprieve from his life. They heard his soft steps moving down the hall toward the front door. They heard the knob turn, the door open, and click shut behind him.

While Mrs. Brief instantly broke down in another fit of sobbing and Dr. Brief tried fruitlessly to comfort her, Bulma bounded of her chair, toppling it over in her haste to reach Vegeta before he was too far gone. She ran out of the kitchen and went outside. She barely caught Vegeta before he took off into the air. His communicator device was attached to his ear, the red screen displaying foreign symbols in front of his left eye.

"Vegeta, wait!" She sounded desperate, lost, as if her heart were being torn from her chest. Against his better judgment, he turned to face her.

"What is it, girl?"

"Promise me something before you go, Vegeta," she whispered. "Promise me you'll come back some day."

Vegeta gazed at her a few long moments, then swallowed and nodded. "I promise."

Only the tiniest bit satisfied, Bulma gave him as much of a smile as she could muster before she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him for all she was worth. "I'll miss you, Veggie. Please don't be gone long."

It took every ounce of his willpower to unhook her arms from his neck and step away from her. He glowered at the ground, as if the yellowing grass and dried, dead leaves were at fault for his fate. He tilted his head to look up at the sky, the orange glow of the city reflecting on the clouds, obscuring his view of the stars above. "Go inside, girl."

Bulma took a few steps backward before turning on her heel and running inside, determined to make sure he never saw her tear-streaked face before he left. As soon as the front door was closed she leaned against the wall and allowed her body to collapse to the floor as she was wracked with sobs so deep she couldn't breathe.

Vegeta shot into the air as soon as he heard the door close. He didn't need to see anyone else. He was afraid if he did he wouldn't be able to go through with it. He wouldn't be able to leave. He raised his ki and flew as fast as he could southeast. He had to get to the space pod before he changed his mind. His scouter beeped as the transmission he started went through and he was connected to base.

"Prince Vegeta, come in."

"Base 257, this is Prince Vegeta. I am leaving planet 1076XR tonight. I will arrive there in four absmonths."

"You're leaving? But your pod is broken!"

"I repaired it. Tell Lord Frieza I am on my way back. Call off the retrieval squad. They will not be needed."

"Yes, sir."

"Clear." Vegeta pushed the button of his scouter, cutting the connection. He dropped out of the sky soon after when he reached the rocky wilderness where the saiyan space pod was. It took him a few minutes to relocate it. When he did, he removed the infant life support system and activated the space pod. He used the manual override code to enter new coordinates after checking the system, fuel, and oxygen. Everything was ready to go. He pushed the button to close the hatch. It seemed to raise in slow motion, as if urging him to rethink his decision. He grit his teeth and exhaled through his nose when it finally latched shut. The pod was filled with a deafening silence as the bird calls, crickets chirping, distant roars of wild animals, and the wind were shut out. All he could hear was his own labored breathing.

'I have to do this.'

He double checked the coordinates on the screen and entered the command on the keypad to launch. He heard the boosters powering up and then felt the familiar pressure as the pod levitated off the ground and sped out of the planet's atmosphere, rapidly accelerating to speeds faster than light. When the mudball was no more than a memory, he pressed the button to drain the oxygen and pump in the gas that would hold him in stasis mode for the duration of his voyage. The last thoughts he had before sinking into his artificial sleep were of blue hair, off-key singing, and a twitching lavender mustache.

_A/N: I personally think this is the best piece of work I have ever written. Agree or disagree, I want reviews. Originally I was going to say 40 minimum, but after the high number of reviews I've gotten on the past few chapters, I'm upping it to 50. I know you can do it. I will update as regularly scheduled as long as I get at least 50 reviews on this. I do this because I really, _really_ want feedback on this particular chapter. Writing style, grammar, plot, characterization, emotions, descriptions, sensory details, you name it, I want your thoughts on it. Basically, if ever you were to leave a review, now would be the time to do it._

_Concerning your reviews, I'm not answering a lot of your questions because they will be addressed later on. It's not that I'm ignoring them! I appreciate all of them and I try to answer everyone in a note, in the story, or in a private message. I just don't want to give you any spoilers._

_Absmonths – short for "absolute months" because a month is not the same length on all planets. An absmonth is 35 Earth days, the length of a month on the Cold home planet._

_Heads-up: This is a major turning point in the story (obviously). 'Til now it has been largely light-hearted, fun, even humorous at times. The next several chapters are going to be much darker._


	25. Resume Life

Resume Life

Bulma pushed her way through the crowd of people milling about the indoor garden. Half of them were borderline drunk and weaved back and forth as they walked. She heard loud bursts of laughter and the scent of champagne was thick in the air. She was tempted to grab a flute of the golden, bubbly drink herself, but she knew better. She was only ten years old, and no matter how unhappy she was it was inappropriate for her to drink alcohol. She found a secluded area and leaned against one of the larger trees, not caring how the rough bark dug into her back and snagged on her organza dress.

"I hate these stupid parties," she hissed, rubbing her temples with her fingers. It was her parents' New Year's party. She attended every year even though there was never anyone around her age present. Instead she was surrounded by her parents' friends and employees, all of whom talked down to her or gave a condescending pat on the head as if she were nothing more than a pet. How easy it was for them to forget she was their intellectual superior.

Mrs. Brief waltzed into the clearing balancing a tray of hors d'oeuvres on one hand. "There you are, honey. I was wondering if you would help me out in the kitchen?"

"Sure, Mom."

Bulma followed her mother out of the garden and through the halls to the kitchen. Once the door was closed, Mrs. Brief set her tray on the counter and knelt down in front of Bulma. She put her hands on her daughter's shoulders and her smiled slipped from her face. "How are you doing, sweetie?"

There was no scent of champagne on her breath, unlike everyone else at the party. Bulma sighed and turned her head. She didn't want to talk. "I'm fine."

"I know that's not true. You're still missing Vegeta, aren't you?"

The blue-haired girl ground her teeth and her hands balled into fists at her sides. "Do you expect me not to miss him? He was my only friend!"

"I know, Bulma, but he wouldn't want you to brood like this. I miss him, too. I feel like I lost a son, but we have to accept the fact that he's gone."

"I can't!" Bulma shouted. She pulled away from her mother and ran out of the kitchen. She hurried upstairs to her bedroom and threw herself on her bed. She couldn't stop the tears from coming. She felt like she had done nothing but cry for the past three months. She heard the light footsteps of her mother on the stairs and groaned. She just wanted to be left alone. She rolled onto her stomach and beat the mattress with her fists.

Mrs. Brief knocked on Bulma's door. She opened it and went inside even though she got no invitation in and went over to Bulma. She sat down on the edge of the bed and gently ran her fingers through Bulma's long hair. She felt the bed shaking and knew her daughter was crying again. She sighed. "Sweetie, I'm sorry. I can't ask you to stop missing him. I can't either," she admitted.

Bulma's voice was muffled by her pillow when she answered, "He promised he'd come back, Mom. So where is he? It's been months."

Mrs. Brief had no answer. She rubbed Bulma's back. "You have to trust him, Bulma. If he said he'll be back, he will. You have to be patient."

"How can I be patient when I'm so miserable?" Bulma was, perhaps, being a bit melodramatic, but it was true that school had regressed to the way it was before Vegeta came. Kids were bullying her and she rarely made it to school on time. She had detentions more often than not. Though she knew the material well in all her classes, her grades were slipping. She was too depressed to finish or turn in assignments. She could sense her parents' concern and disappointment, which made her feel guilty on top of everything else. She had exiled herself to self-imposed isolation since Vegeta left. She didn't want to have anything to do with anyone. She was lonely and hurting.

"I understand, honey. I just want you to be happy though." Mrs. Brief, already heartbroken by Vegeta's absence, was further torn apart when she saw her daughter's grief. The worst part was knowing she couldn't do anything to help. She would do anything in her power to bring Vegeta back if she could. She wanted Vegeta to be safe, she wanted her daughter to be happy again, and she wanted the boy back for her own sake. She missed him as desperately as Bulma did. She tried to hide it and tried not to think about it, but when he left he took a piece of her heart with him. She had lost the only son she would ever have.

Bulma shook her head. "I'll be happy when Vegeta comes back." She reached over to her bedside table and grabbed a box of tissues. She blew her nose and carelessly tossed the wadded up tissue on the floor. There was already a small pile of them next to her bed. Her trash can was overflowing anyway. Her nose was red and chapped, making her look like she had a cold when in reality she spent much of her time wiping her nose because she was crying. Often she would break down in sobs that made it hard to breathe when she was out of tears to cry.

Mrs. Brief didn't know what to say. She couldn't guarantee Vegeta would be back anytime soon and she couldn't say anything to comfort her daughter. She felt helpless, and that only made her own sadness deepen. She wanted so much for them to be a happy family again, all four of them. She wanted Vegeta home, safe and sound, but she had no idea where he had gone, who he was going to see, how long it would take to get there, and how long it would take to return. He made it a point to keep everything a secret, and no matter how hard she and her husband and daughter tried to pull information out of him, he held onto it with an iron grip to keep them from learning much about him and his past.

"I'm going to go back to the party," she finally said. "I'll leave you be."

Bulma didn't say anything. She grabbed another tissue and blew her nose again before burying her face in her pillow. Mrs. Brief watched her with pity before turning and leaving her room. She plastered on a smile, not quite as genuine as usual, and went downstairs to the indoor garden. Whether or not she was hurting inside, she had to be a good hostess and make sure all her guests were comfortable and happy. She didn't want to leave her daughter to wallow in her depression alone, but she knew when it was better to give her space.

Bulma spent the rest of the night in her room. She didn't want to go down and mingle with a bunch of old drunkards. She could hardly stand them when they still had the power of reason. It was a long while after her mother left before she sat up in bed and looked across the room at her mirror. She had become quite used to her own disheveled appearance. Face blotchy and tear-streaked, her nose dripping, hair mussed, and bags under her eyes, it was the norm as of late. She didn't sleep well, often waking up with either a nightmare or from a dream where Vegeta came back. In her excitement she would jolt awake and have trouble going to sleep again, often breaking down when she remembered he was still gone.

"I'm a mess," she told herself. She stood up and took her dress off and discarded it in her dirty laundry. Bulma went into her bathroom and filled the bathtub with hot water before stepping into it. The water burned her pale skin, but she paid it no mind as she immersed herself in it. The simple pleasure of a hot bath was sometimes enough to help her escape from her cyclical thoughts. Sometimes.

When the water started to turn cold, Bulma got out of the bath and drained the water. She looked at herself in the mirror and smiled slightly when she saw she looked a little older now. Her baby fat was giving way to lean muscle. She hadn't given up on her training after Vegeta left. She figured she would keep it up so that when he did return she could rip him a new one for putting her through so much emotional turmoil. Besides, she really had learned to like it. She felt powerful when she learned new fighting techniques. She was still a little girl, easily overpowered by any adult, but she would go down fighting if anyone were to ever attack her again. Vegeta was right. He wouldn't always be there to protect her so she needed to learn to defend herself.

She wrapped a towel around herself and combed her wet tangles. Her bright blue hair, now dark after her bath, stuck to her back and shoulders. She could feel rivulets of water trickling down her spine until they reached the towel, making her shiver. She wrung her hair out in the sink and threw it over her shoulder.

"I miss you, you stupid boy," she sighed. She slowly shook her head and turned the faucet on to brush her teeth. It wasn't as if Vegeta could hear her. Knowing him, he wouldn't even care. He probably never even thought about her. He probably lied when he promised to return some day. By now she was little more than a distant memory, easily brushed aside.

Bulma wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and gave herself one more once-over in the mirror before going into her room. She pulled on a long nightshirt and wrapped her hair in her towel. She could hear the sounds of the party still going in the garden; music was playing and there wasconversation and laughter. She was tired. It was New Year's Eve, but she didn't care to stay awake long enough to welcome in the new year. That would mean saying goodbye to the past year. Goodbye to everything that happened. Goodbye to her memories of Vegeta. She didn't want to leave him behind. She very much wanted to believe he would play a lead role in her future.

"Mom was right, I guess. He wouldn't want me to be so emotional over him. But I can't help it! I've tried to get over it, but I can't. He's gone and I'm afraid he's never coming back. Why did he _have_ to go? For that matter, _where_ did he go? He never said where he was from!" Bulma crossed her arms over her chest and sat at the foot of her bed. If she knew where he was she would go after him. Hunt him down and drag him to Capsule Corporation by force if she had to. Not that she could, but it didn't matter how realistic it was since she had no way of finding him anyway.

She lied back and stared at the ceiling. There was only the dim light from the city streaming in her balcony doors, made brighter as it reflected off the thin layer of snow coating the world.

"I wish I never met him." Saying it never made her believe it. She had told herself hundreds of times over the past three months that she wished she hadn't met him. If she hadn't, then she wouldn't feel so hurt because he wasn't around anymore. She wouldn't know the pain of losing her one, true friend because she never would have had one. Of course it hurt to be alone, but at least before Vegeta walked into her life she didn't really know what she was missing. Now it was all she could think about. He was constantly on her mind.

Glancing at the clock on her nightstand, she saw that it was only fifteen minutes until the new year was ushered in with music and celebration. She turned back to the ceiling and sighed. Maybe if she put him in her past she could forget about him and stop hurting. Then she wouldn't care if he never came back. It was so much easier said than done, though. How could she just forget someone who she had grown to care for so deeply? He was more than a friend to her. He was like a brother. She loved him. She missed him more than she could put into words.

When she heard a collective shout of "Happy New Year!" downstairs she crawled under the covers of her bed and buried her face in her pillow. She didn't want it to come. She didn't want the old to go. She wanted her friend. She wanted her pain to go away. She wanted to at least know he was ok wherever he was.

"Why couldn't he at least send a letter or something?" she mumbled. She pulled her covers up over her head to block out the light. Tired as she was, it still took her a long time to go to sleep that night.

Vegeta woke with a start when he heard the computerized voice telling him he had two minutes until landfall. He yawned, deeply inhaling the live-giving oxygen pouring into the space pod. The haze in his mind cleared as the last of the stasis gas was removed from his body. He raked his fingers through his hair before leaning forward in the seat to catch a glimpse of the base planet he was heading toward. It was only a tiny speck of light in the vast emptiness of space, but it was rapidly growing as his pod approached. Before long the speck was all he could see, a large planet the color of a dark eggplant. It was like a jewel floating in the vacuum of space. No wonder the lizard claimed it as his own. He loved purple.

When his pod entered the planet's atmosphere, he was jostled in his seat as the retrograde rockets fired up to slow the descent. He braced himself for impact as the final countdown to landing flashed across the screen above the keypad. The sickening lurch of the freefall told him it was only seconds until landing. He gripped his knees with his hands, his fingers digging into his skin.

The space pod fell onto a cushiony landing pad and bounced once before coming to a stop. A team of soldiers ran out to welcome the prince. They stood at attention as the hatch slowly lowered and a young boy with a black flame of hair and a brown tail wrapped around his waist stepped out and walked toward them. The men did not let his diminutive appearance fool them. He was already one of the most powerful warriors in Frieza's army, and their scouters read a power level stable at 10,000. He was definitely a formidable adversary, so they were sure to be respectful as to avoid making any perceived slight against him. He was not only known for his strength, but his volatility. He was quick to kill and ask questions later. More importantly, Frieza seemed to find more humor in his murderous ways than any need for discipline.

"What are you gawking at?" Vegeta barked when he saw the soldiers watching him warily. They stumbled away from him, muttering apologies as he stalked past them, obviously in a sour mood. Then again, he wasn't known for his good moods, especially when he had just woken from stasis.

"What's his problem?" asked one of the lower-ranking soldiers once he passed by, thinking he was out of the saiyan's hearing range. He was instantly blasted into another dimension. The other soldiers gulped when they saw the smoking remains of their former comrade.

Vegeta turned to the side, enough for them to see his angular profile. "Does anyone else have any questions?"

The saiyan prince was almost disappointed when the rest of the soldiers shook their heads. It felt good to kill again, even if it was only one lowly soldier, most likely a new 'recruit,' who didn't know better than to test his patience. He sneered at them and continued on his way from the landing pad. He wanted a new pod made ready as soon as possible and he needed to get in contact with Frieza's ship. It wouldn't hurt to have a meal at the mess hall as well, assuming there was anything edible there. He could eat most foods, but some things the creatures of different worlds ate could hardly be considered food. Stewed minerals, what was that about?

Everywhere he went there was a commotion left in his stead. He never raised his hand against anyone after his first kill, but the soldiers at the base were afraid of him. His reputation preceded him. _Everyone_ in Frieza's army knew of Prince Vegeta. Most soldiers were at least twice his age and half his power, if that. No one wanted to make an enemy of him. Not that they didn't hate him. They resented him for his incredible strength and the fact that he was not only a saiyan, but the saiyan prince. Most of all, though, they hated him because of Frieza's favoritism. It was no secret that Frieza gave him special privileges. He was always given the best purge missions, his own quarters on Frieza's ship, unlimited access to healing tanks, personal training sessions with Frieza himself, and the newest model scouter, space pod, and armor. For being nothing more than a soldier, he was pampered.

Of course no one but the men on Frieza's ship knew what life was really like for the young prince. They didn't know the extent of his humiliation, the beatings he was given for no reason, the type of 'training' he received, or the unmentionable abuse he sufferedin Frieza's personal chambers. They didn't know how he was starved before being sent on the most difficult purges. All of that information was purposely kept to the ship. Frieza _wanted_ his army to hate the saiyan prince. He was afraid that if Vegeta were respected for surviving what he did, he might have mutiny on his hands. It wasn't that he didn't have the strength to put down any rebellion, but he had already spent so much time building his army it would be a shame to have to kill all his soldiers – and his pet.

Vegeta kicked down the door to the control tower and strode in proudly with arms crossed and chin held high in smirked when he saw the technicians inside scrambling to their feet to see what was going on. The director of operations managed to regain some order before hesitantly walking over to where Vegeta stood. He was an old creature, more birdlike than anything. He was the only one in the room who seemed at all able to hide his fear of the young soldier.

"Prince Vegeta," he said, bowing his feathered head respectfully, "I am glad to see you have arrived safely."

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I require a new space pod fully fueled. I need to reach Frieza as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir, we will have our newest model of space pod prepared at once." He turned to the nearest technician and shouted, "Contact hangar 12 and ready pod D0042 for lift-off within the hour!"

While the technician made the call, Vegeta took a few steps further into the control room. He chuckled when the nearest operators shied away from him. None of them dared turn their back on him for fear he would slaughter them without reason. "I would also like some new armor."

"You would have to contact the weaponry division for that, Prince Vegeta."

"Hn. Let me know as soon as the pod is on the launch pad. Send a message to Lord Frieza that I am on my way." Orders given, Vegeta left the room and ran through the halls to the adjoining building where weapons and armor were distributed. His armor still fit well; it was stretchy enough to fit him as an oozaru, but his bodysuit was ragged from his training. He refused to look like a commoner when he stood before Frieza. Besides, the armor he was wearing was deeply ingrained with the scents of his pack members. No matter how many times he washed it and soaked it in blood, he would always smell them through it all. He couldn't let himself be distracted by memories of them. He had to put them in the past where they belonged. He made an empty promise to the girl. He never seriously intended to return to the brat's planet. In order to do that he would have to first defeat Frieza. Realistically, that would never happen. He would never go back. He had to cut the strings of attachment immediately lest they get him into trouble when he made it to Frieza. He could not afford to have the lizard manipulate him in yet another way.

He stormed into the weaponry and armor building and scanned the area for some personnel who could help him find what he needed right away. He snorted when no one came into view. Probably everyone was hiding in the barracks until they heard the news that he had departed. He sighed and started searching through the assortment of bodysuits until he found one the color he wanted in a size that would fit well without being stretched. He tossed his find over his shoulder and began going through the closets stocked with breastplates. There were different styles designed for different body types, but most of them were the kind he wore with large shoulder pads and flaps that extended below his waist on the sides and in front of his groin for added protection. He thought they looked kind of tacky, but that was what was available. Anyway, he wasn't entering a fashion contest. He was going for armor that was practical, not stylish.

Vegeta pulled on his new bodysuit, the same royal blue as his old one. The sleeves and legs were a bit too long, but he would grow into it. He yanked his new breastplate on over his head and tested his range of motion, making sure it was not compromised in any way. Satisfied, he stepped into his boots and put his gloves on. He looked himself over and shrugged. His armor was an exact replica of what he always wore. Aside from growing a few inches during his stay on Earth, he was essentially the same as before.

"Prince Vegeta, do you read?"

Vegeta pushed the button on his scouter to reply. "Go ahead."

"Your new space pod is prepared. Report to launch pad 20 when you're ready for departure."

"Copy." Vegeta sighed. He had hoped to eat something, but there was no sense in delaying his leave. The sooner he left the sooner he would reach Frieza's ship. His stomach growled its protest as he took a left toward the launch pads rather than a right to the mess hall. He ignored it.

A few minutes later Vegeta stood in front of his new space pod. It looked exactly like the older models, but it was capable of even greater speeds and used fuel more efficiently so it didn't need to be refueled as often, making long trips shorter with fewer pit stops. The director of operations stood nearby, personally seeing the saiyan off, either because of his respect for the high-ranking soldier or because no one else wanted to come within fifty yards of the prince.

"How long will it take to arrive at Frieza's home base?" Vegeta asked as he examined the exterior of the pod. His hand slid across the smooth, rounded surface as he walked around it. There were no dimples in its surface from striking space debris. It was brand new. He was wary about taking a space pod on its maiden voyage. It was not unheard of for them to malfunction on their first trip without sound reason. Still, this was the fastest pod at the base and he would use it to reach Frieza as soon as possible.

"Approximately six absmonths, sir."

"Very well. Your men have contacted the retrieval squad?"

"Yes, sir. They have been redirected to the nearest base for further instruction."

"Good." Vegeta stepped into the space pod and sat down. The coordinates had already been entered into the pod's system. He closed the hatch and crossed his arms over his chest. He heard the boosters powering up and took a deep breath as the countdown to liftoff began. He would go into stasis for the trip, and when he woke up he would be back in the lizard's icy clutches. He shuddered and shook his head. He would not be afraid. He had to stay strong.

"Pod launching in ten, nine, eight…"

As the computerized voice counted down the time to launch, Vegeta saw the men on the launch pad stepping back to a safe distance from the pod. They saluted him as the countdown continued. Fools. He knew the respect they showed him was purely for self-preservation. At least they knew better than to cross him. He felt bloodlust. He wanted to end their pitiful lives for no other reason than their cowardice. How easy it was for him to slip into his old way of life.

"Seven, six, five…"

The pod shook as the boosters reached full power. He always hated the anticipation of lifting off. It made him anxious. He was already having second thoughts about going, at least right away. This time he had no doubt about what to expect. Frieza was probably furious with him for being gone so long. He had already been gone for 10 absmonths, and it would be another six before he made it to the base planet. 'Come on, damnit, hurry the hell up!'

"Four, three, two, one. Liftoff."

Vegeta's pod shot into the air, winking out of sight in mere seconds. The soldiers at the base breathed a sigh of relief as the saiyan left. Everyone had heard about his arrival, and most made sure to stay out of the way during his short stay. With him gone, they were safe to wander the halls of the base without fear of bumping into him, angering him, and being sent to the next dimension.

When the pressure lessened as the pod reached its maximum speed, Vegeta breathed deeply and rested his head against the seat. He pushed the button to enter stasis mode and closed his eyes. The last thoughts he had before drifting into his artificially induced slumber were of one blue-haired girl living on a backwater planet on the edge of the galaxy light-years away. He wondered how she was coping with his absence. He figured she had already forgotten about him. With that thought in mind, he lost consciousness and entered the long, dreamless sleep of stasis.

Frieza grinned as the two large saiyans knelt before him. He hopped out of his throne and circled around Nappa and Raditz. "I have some news, monkeys. Would you like to hear it?"

Nappa swallowed hard. News was almost never good. Especially not since Vegeta had crash-landed on a faraway little mudball. "Yes, Lord Frieza," he said.

The tyrant grinned wider and came to a stop in front of the saiyans. He clasped his hands behind his back. "I have word that your _prince_ is on his way back. My men on base planet 257 informed me that Vegeta arrived an hour ago and has already left to come to me. Now tell me, monkeys, how it is that he _miraculously_ found a way to repair his _broken_ pod and make it to a planet light-years away?"

"I – I don't know, Lord," Nappa managed to say before he was kicked across the throne room. He wiped his bloody lip with the palm of his hand and sat up.

Frieza snarled at him. "I'll tell you how! You have all been lying to me!"

"But Lord Frieza, Prince Vegeta is returning. Why would we have lied if he meant to come back?" Raditz asked as respectfully as he could. He was answered with a swift kick in his chest that easily fractured his sternum.

"Are you saying I'm stupid?" Frieza yelled.

"No, Lord Frieza," Raditz groaned. It was hard to speak. Every word made him feel as though a fire was spreading through his chest.

Frieza's grin returned when he saw the saiyans' pain. They were never as amusing as Vegeta, nor as frustrating. He couldn't wait to break the Prince of all Saiyans. He was his single greatest creation. A twisted monster just like himself, a mockery of what he could have been. It sent tingles down his spine whenever he imagined Vegeta writhing in pain at his feet, silently begging for mercy even as he forced himself to remain silent and endure more for the sake of his damned pride. In a few months, he would have his favorite pet monkey back, and he would be sure to tear him to pieces. He would teach him what happened when he tried escaping his master.

"Get this scum out of here," he growled to the foot soldiers at the door. While they dragged the saiyans out of his throne room he walked over to the window behind his throne and looked out at the black expanse of space.

"Six absmonths," he said to himself, "Six absmonths and Vegeta will be mine again. I do hope he puts up a good fight when he returns. I have missed the taste of his blood." He licked his lips and cackled with cruel mirth. No one missed the saiyan prince more than he had.

Bulma sighed contentedly as she dipped her legs into the pool. She sat on the edge, enjoying the cold water and the late June sun beating on her back. She tiled her head and gazed at the blue sky. There were puffy white clouds lazily drifting by. It was a beautiful day, the first in a week. It had been raining for days, but the sun finally came out, and with it Bulma emerged from the compound to enjoy it.

"This is the best." It was summer, she was out of school, it was hot and sunny, and she had the whole day to relax in the pool. What more could she ask for? Only one thing: a friend. Specifically, a certain boy who had gone missing nine months earlier. She wouldn't let herself dwell on that though. Not today. Not when everything was so perfect.

She turned when she heard the back door of the compound slap shut. Her mother was walking toward her with a plate and a glass of pink lemonade. "Bulma, dear, would you like a little snack?"

The blue-haired girl smiled. "Sure. What do you have?"

Mrs. Brief handed the glass of lemonade to her daughter and sat down next to her. "I made lemon bars and some oatmeal raisin cookies. Take your pick."

Bulma chose one of the lemon bars and bit into it. Her mouth puckered at the deliciously sour taste. She licked the powdered sugar off her lips and fingers. "They're great. Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome, dear." Mrs. Brief smiled and nibbled on a lemon bar. She was glad to see her daughter had been cheering up over the past few weeks. She knew Bulma still missed Vegeta, but she was coming to terms with his absence. That was all she could really hope for.

Bulma kicked her legs in the water. Honestly, she was getting bored. Spending every day with no one but her parents got old after a while. "So, I was thinking, would it be possible for me to take martial arts lessons? Like, at a real dojo?"

Mrs. Brief shrugged. "I don't see why not." She still found it hard to believe how much Bulma enjoyed fighting. Bulma was originally extrinsically motivated to train for the sake of spending time with Vegeta, but over time it became a hobby of hers. It might be good for Bulma to get away from the compound, especially if she was with other kids her age.

Bulma grinned and hugged her mother. "You're the best. I want to start as soon as possible. I can only teach myself so much."

After Vegeta left, Bulma bought books on martial arts and did extensive internet research to learn new techniques, but she knew she would benefit more from lessons. What struck her as strange, though, was how she couldn't find any information about ki and some of the techniques she saw Vegeta use in his kata. She tried to mimic what she observed him doing, but she could never get it quite right, and he obviously wasn't around to correct her.

'Finally, I can get better. I haven't made any progress in too long.' Bulma drank her lemonade and jumped into the pool. Her teeth chattered as she swam around until she adjusted to the cold water.

'He has to be coming back soon. I mean, nine months? That's a long time.' Bulma flipped over and backstroked across the pool. She wondered what Vegeta was doing at that moment. She imagined him somewhere outside, enjoying the nice weather like she was. Maybe it was unrealistic, based on what she knew about him, but she had to stay positive or she would lose her mind worrying about him.

Mrs. Brief stayed by the pool, watching Bulma swim. She recognized the faraway look in her eyes and knew she was thinking about Vegeta. Poor girl, she needed more friends if she was ever going to heal. Vegeta could never be replaced, but at least Bulma would be distracted from her constant reminiscing about him.

"Your father and I were thinking we could go on a vacation in a couple weeks. Would you like that?"

Bulma gripped the edge of the pool and wiped her hair out of her eyes. "That sounds fun. Where we going?"

"We thought a tour of southern Europe would be nice."

"That would be so cool! How long?" Bulma pulled herself out of the pool and twisted her hair, wringing the excess water out.

"Oh, I'd imagine about a month. Just a short trip."

The girl laughed and grabbed her towel to dry off. Her mother would consider a month-long trip short. Most people were lucky to get a whole week for vacation. Owning the company certainly had its advantages. She sat down next to her mother and took an oatmeal cookie. "I'm totally excited. I can't wait to go!"

Mrs. Brief smiled brightly. "I'm glad. I'll tell him to go ahead and make the plans."

Bulma finished her cookie and put her feet in the cold chlorine water. Life was good. It would be better if Vegeta were with her, but she wasn't going to complain. Not anymore. She was done crying over him. She still held on to the hope that he would return, but she wasn't going to waste her whole life waiting for him. He wouldn't want her to. He would tell her to stop being so foolishly sentimental.

She giggled at that. Vegeta was a grouch, but he was a good friend. She still missed him, and probably would until the day he came back, but the ache in her heart was dulling.

"Docking sequence will commence in two minutes."

Vegeta gulped in the oxygen pouring into his space pod. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times, willing the haziness and blurred vision to go away. He needed to be fully conscious and alert when he arrived. He was certain Frieza would want to see him immediately. He wasn't looking forward to it. He exhaled slowly and rubbed his eyes. He was about to start his real life again.

'Whatever gods are listening, please let me survive this.' Vegeta was not one to pray under normal circumstances. He believed if there were any deities, they were using his life for their own sick amusement. But in this situation, he would take any help he could get.

"Docking sequence will commence in one minute."

Vegeta held himself steady as the pod decelerated. He didn't need the humiliation of a broken nose from being thrown forward out of his seat. He felt like his organs were being rammed against his rib cage, not an entirely pleasant sensation. His breath was forced out of his lungs. When the deceleration stopped, he gasped for air. That had to be the worst part of docking on the ship. Wait, the ship? He looked out the porthole. There, in front of him not too far away was the ship where he'd spent a good portion of his short life. Apparently while he was in stasis Frieza's technicians had changed his pod's coordinates to meet up with the ship since Frieza wasn't at his home base.

"Prince Vegeta, prepare for docking." Vegeta sighed when he heard the familiar voice of the head technician over his scouter. He didn't bother replying. A few seconds passed before he felt his pod come to a complete stop and heard the clanking of the machinery drawing his pod into the hangar of the ship.

The pod reached the hangar and stopped again. Vegeta entered the command to open the hatch on the keypad. As it lowered in what seemed like slow motion, he swallowed his anxiety. 'It's show time.'

Vegeta stepped out of his pod and crossed his arms over his chest. He scowled at his welcoming committee. It was none other than Zarbon and Dodoria. His tail tightened around his waist. Their presence was not a good sign. He briefly wondered if Dodoria had been officially promoted to Lieutenant General yet. He dismissed that thought. It didn't matter what the pink creep's rank was, he was still a disgusting pig unworthy of his respect.

Zarbon smirked. "Welcome back, _monkey_. Lord Frieza has ordered an audience with you at once."

"Where are Nappa and Raditz?" Vegeta demanded as he started toward the lizard's throne room.

"Awaiting your arrival. They are _so_ eager to see their beloved prince."

Vegeta quickened his pace. If he knew Frieza, he was busy beating the saiyans senseless in his impatience. He heard Zarbon and Dodoria snickering behind him, but he ignored them. He had bigger matters on his hands. He stormed into the throne room without waiting for permission to enter. He stopped in his tracks and looked around nervously. It was so calm and quiet, something had to be wrong. There were soldiers lining the walls of the room and Frieza was sitting in his throne, facing the window. He couldn't see Raditz or Nappa anywhere. At least they weren't being tortured as he had feared.

"Ah, Vegeta, my pet," he heard Frieza's cold voice slither through the air, cutting the tension like a knife. "How long it has been since I've seen you."

The throne slowly turned. Vegeta was tempted to roll his eyes at the dramatic way the lizard was acting. Instead, he reigned in his pride and knelt down before the tyrant. "Yes, Lord Frieza."

"And where, pray tell, have you been?"

Vegeta clenched and unclenched his fists. "My pod malfunctioned on the way to planet 1084XR. I landed on a small planet about four light-years away from it. I was unable to get my pod repaired until 10 absmonths ago, Lord. I returned as soon as I could."

"Really?" Frieza asked, levitating out of his throne. "And here I thought you were running away. I thought I taught you better than that, my little monkey."

Vegeta kept his eyes locked on the floor. "No, Lord. I had no intention of desertion."

Frieza lowered himself to the floor in front of Vegeta. The saiyan could see his three-toed feet and had to stop himself from recoiling in disgust. He hated everything about the lizard. "Really? I find that hard to believe. How did you manage to repair your space pod?"

That was the question Vegeta was hoping the lizard wouldn't ask. If he answered honestly, there was the chance that Frieza would take intereste in the mudball. If he answered with a lie, he would likely be found out and then punished for his dishonesty. There was no safe way to answer. "There was primitive technology on the planet, Lord. It was adequate to get my pod in fair enough condition to make it to the nearest base planet where I exchanged it for a new pod."

"You're lying," Frieza said, deceptively calm. Vegeta gasped when he felt the lizard's cold, scaly tail wrapping around his neck and lifting him from the floor. "My men at the base informed me that the pod you arrived in was in good condition. There were no signs of it ever having sustained damage that would cause it to – what did you say? – malfunction. Now Vegeta, do tell me the truth this time."

Vegeta inhaled sharply when he felt the tail tightening, nearly cutting off his air supply. Damn it all, there was no way to avoid telling him what really happened. He closed his eyes and forced himself to stay calm. "My pod _did_ malfunction. I tried my best to repair it, but I was unable to fix it before it was tampered with and the self-destruct mechanism was activated. About one absmonth later I found another saiyan space pod on the planet. Apparently an infant saiyan had been sent there years ago on a mission. It failed. There was no saiyan there and the natives were still alive."

"There now, was it so hard to tell the truth?" Frieza's fake smile twisted into a snarl. "You foolish monkey!" He threw his fist into Vegeta stomach. The saiyan coughed up a mouthful of blood and gasped for air. His hands instinctively went to his stomach to ease the pain.

Frieza punched Vegeta's face, busting his lip and fracturing his nose in one blow. Vegeta wheezed as the tail constricted tighter around his neck. He was choking on the blood running down his throat from his broken nose. The throne room was deathly silent aside from the gurgling noises Vegeta made as he fought to breathe. He clawed at Frieza's tail, but to no avail.

"I will teach you what happens when you try to escape!" Frieza screamed as he slammed Vegeta into the floor. The sound of bones cracking went unheard as Frieza roared in anger and threw Vegeta into the wall. The boy bounced off the freezing cold metal and landed on the floor. He curled into the fetal position and coughed violently. The soldiers around him backed away, giving their master space to work as he approached Vegeta.

Frieza tangled his cold fingers in Vegeta thick mane and lifted him to eye level. "Say you're sorry, monkey."

Vegeta shook his head. He had nothing to be sorry for. It wasn't his fault that his pod malfunctioned. It wasn't his fault that he was stranded on a mudball for months. None of it was his fault. He would not apologize. He was going to be ruthlessly beaten anyway, what difference would it make? He would only lose his pride. It wouldn't save him.

"Stubborn as always, I see." Frieza clenched his free hand into a fist and drove it into Vegeta's solar plexus. Vegeta coughed again, spattering blood on his face. Frieza licked it off his lips and grinned. Yes, he had missed Vegeta very much.

"Open the door, damnit!" Nappa bellowed. The guards to Frieza's throne room were being obstinate about allowing the two saiyans inside. They were ordered to keep them out until their prince's audience was over.

The guard on the right crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the bald saiyan. "We have orders from Frieza that no one is to enter during his meeting with Vegeta. You're going to have to wait."

Nappa roared in frustration and rubbed his head. If he'd had hair he would have been ripping it out. He didn't hear Vegeta inside, but Frieza was screaming loud enough to be heard through the thick metal doors. He knew he would never hear Vegeta. He was being beaten for something that he couldn't help. The saiyan elite was going mad waiting for it to be over. How long would it last? Would Vegeta be able to survive this one? He knew he was powerless to stop the monster from hurting his prince, but it was his job to _try_ to help. He pounded his fists against the wall and growled.

Raditz stood to the side, watching his superior throw a tantrum. They went to the throne room as soon as they got word that the prince had arrived. He wasn't at all surprised when they found they were being kept from seeing him until after his punishment. He knew as well as Nappa what was going on behind the closed doors. He could practically see the broken body of his prince being tossed around like a ragdoll, beaten, mocked, humiliated, put on display for the rest of the soldiers on the ship to laugh at. His knuckles turned white as he balled his hands into fists, restraining himself from attacking the guards. There was no way a low-class like him could take them on. Nappa might have a chance, if there was only one of them. He sighed.

Frieza cackled as Vegeta fell limply to the floor in a puddle of his own blood. "You've gotten so strong, monkey. You would be dead by now a year ago." He circled around the boy's trembling body. What a beautiful, wonderful beast he was. So strong and arrogant. He had too much pride for his own damned good, but that was what made Frieza favor him so highly. Never had he found someone so challenging to break. It had been six years since he took him into his care, yet he was still stubborn and defiant. He was a perfect specimen for him to raise in his twisted, sadistic style. He would shape him into his own likeness. He would be cold, heartless, and cruel. A true killer. A monster. And he would keep him on a leash his whole life. He was his pet, his plaything. His very own little monkey prince.

Vegeta spat out a mouthful of bloody phlegm. One of his molars came out with it. He sighed when he saw the white enamel covered in gore. He would grow a new tooth, but it was a pain. His left eye was already swollen shut and his vision was blurring and fading as he hung on to consciousness. He would not succumb to the dark void of unconsciousness, not yet. His pride wouldn't allow it. He would show the lizard that he could handle his punishment. He pushed himself up to his elbows and wiped the blood dripping down his chin with the back of his hand.

He hissed in pain when he felt a ki whip lash his back, cutting through his armor and bodysuit with ease. He fell on his face and blinked away the tears stinging his eyes. The last thing he would ever do was cry. The pain was just unexpected, that was all. He felt another lash and jerked away from the source of his pain. He hated when Frieza whipped him. It was more humiliating than anything. He heard the jeers of the soldiers watching his beating as the whip rained down on his back, shredding his skin along with his armor.

He wanted it to stop. He could endure more pain than most soldiers, but it had been a long time. Over a year, actually, since he was last subjected to so much agony. He convinced himself that was the only reason he was having trouble holding in his cries of pain. He wasn't accustomed to it anymore. He'd gone soft. He grit his teeth and pounded his fist against the floor as the whip cracked down on him again.

"You're going to scream this time, monkey," Frieza promised him. "You will scream and beg me to stop before I'm through with you."

If it hadn't hurt so bad, Vegeta might have laughed. That was the same vow Frieza made every time he gave him a beating. And it never happened. He would never, _never_ in a million years give the lizard the satisfaction of knowing he broke down his pride. He would hold on long enough to lose consciousness and then he would be dragged to the medical bay, thrown into a healing tank, and left alone for a few days until he had recovered. It was always the same routine. He would not give in.

Raditz cringed when he heard Frieza's threat. He had heard it many times before and knew from experience that Vegeta would never let it happen. He respected his prince more than anything for his ability to disobey the lizard in such a way, asserting his saiyan pride even as he was being humiliated and torn apart. Sometimes he wanted to yell at the boy to just let it go and scream so he could be spared more severe abuse, but he couldn't bring himself to humiliate not only the prince, but his entire race. He could never ask him to bow down to the lizard freak. No matter what, Frieza could not break him.

He leaned against the wall and watched warily as Nappa paced back and forth. He was worse than a caged animal. The tip of his tail was flicking erratically and his scowl deepened every minute he was kept from seeing his charge. Raditz released a breath he didn't know he was holding and rubbed his temples. He heard the lizard scream something incoherent and frowned. There was a muffled thud as something hit the doors from the inside. No doubt a saiyan body.

Nappa nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard it. He ran to the door and started pounding on it until the guards shoved him away. He stumbled backwards and slammed into the wall behind him where Raditz had been standing only a second before. The long-haired saiyan rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall a safe distance away. Nappa always lost his head when Vegeta had a private 'audience' with Frieza. He wasn't exactly happy about it, but he knew there was nothing he could do, so he detached himself from it and became another silent, stoic onlooker until it came time to take the prince to the medical bay.

'Come on, kid,' he mentally urged his prince, 'You can make it through this. Hold on.'

"Lord, I don't think he'll make it through this if you keep this up," Zarbon interjected from the sidelines. He grimaced when he saw one of Vegeta's ribs protruding from his chest.

"Shut up, Zarbon! He hasn't screamed yet." Frieza was frustrated and ecstatic at the same time. He wanted to hear the monkey's scream. It was such a bloodcurdling sound, but he hadn't had the joy of listening to it since the boy was six years old. It had been far too long. Oh well, at least he had the pleasure of beating the boy without restraint. The pungent odor of his blood was thick in the air. He could practically smell death. It sent a tingling shiver running down his spine.

"He doesn't deserve this! Do you hear me Frieza? He didn't do anything!" Nappa screamed at the doors. He resumed his pacing and growled more audibly as time passed.

Vegeta panted for air and covered his head with his arms when he heard Frieza walking toward him. He could feel his life slipping away. He clung to it as best he could, but it was useless. He knew he wouldn't survive. He knew it. He never honestly expected to be able to. He choked on blood when he tried to inhale and started coughing until he was more exhausted. It wasn't fair. There was no justice in the universe. He didn't do anything wrong. He didn't break his pod to make it malfunction. He wasn't a coward and he hadn't been trying to run away. But none of that mattered.

Bulma laid her vibrantly colored beach towel out in the sand and sat down on it. Spain had to be one of the best places in the whole world. She reclined with her arms braced behind her and watched the steady waves of the ocean stretching for miles before her. The roar of the ocean and the calls of the seagulls overhead lulled her into a deep state of relaxation.

Mrs. Brief sat down on her towel next to Bulma. "Did you remember to put sunscreen on? You don't want to get sunburned."

"Already got it."

The blonde woman squirted a glob of sunscreen into her hands and started applying it to herself. Bulma's nose wrinkled when the odor of the sunscreen mixed with the fresh scent of saltwater. She doubted they even needed it anymore. They had dark tans from spending so many hours outdoors baking in the summer sun.

Dr. Brief, who was sitting in a chair on the other side of his wife, pulled a science magazine out of her oversized and overloaded beach bag and started reading. He was the most conservatively dressed in a pair of swim trunks and a sleeveless shirt. He wasn't as fond of the sun as his wife and daughter. He generally burned while they tanned. It was safer to expose as little skin as possible on extended outings.

"You know," Bulma said, "We never did get Vegeta to go to the beach."

Mrs. Brief's smile dampened for a moment. "No, he never wanted to go."

"He was missing out. We'll have to make him go when he comes back."

"Of course, honey."

Dr. Brief set his magazine aside at the mention of the missing boy. He turned his eyes to the sky, half expecting Vegeta to miraculously drop out of the sky and join them. He had his own suspicions about Vegeta's origins, but he kept them to himself. There was no sense making wild claims and having them blow up in his face later. He didn't care where Vegeta was from anyway. He just wanted him to come home. Sadly, it seemed Bulma was the only one still clinging to the hope that he would someday return. He honestly wanted to believe he would, but after ten months it was hard to keep hoping.

"What do you think he's doing right now?" Bulma wondered aloud.

"Knowing him," Dr. Brief replied, "he's busy making trouble somewhere."

The rejuvenation tank beeped, alerting the doctors that its occupant was completely healed. The fluid inside drained while doctors ran over to help the young saiyan out. They opened the door and were knocked off their feet when Vegeta flared his ki. He had spent the past two weeks in the tank after his homecoming beating. No one was more surprised that he was still alive than himself. He had several new scars to wear as medals commemorating his triumph.

"Prince Vegeta!" Nappa and Raditz shoved their way through the medical bay, pushing aside doctors and patients alike in their haste to reach their young leader.

Vegeta didn't know how to react when he saw them. He wasn't the only one with new scars. At least they were alive. That much was a relief. When they reached him he accepted the new armor Nappa handed him. He put on the royal blue bodysuit, boots, and gloves before pulling his breastplate over his head. Vegeta put on the scouter that Raditz handed him and started for the exit. He didn't say a word to anyone though the older saiyans followed him closely while a horde of doctors crowded around him, insisting he let them run various tests to be sure he was fully recovered. He ignored them all.

Vegeta strode through the ship on his way to the mess hall. His stomach was growling and he intended to fill it. As soon as he entered the mess hall, the smells of the food hit him and brought a wave of nausea with them. He wondered how he ever managed to eat anything that smelled so terrible. He chalked it up to near-starvation and dismissed the thought.

"Prince Vegeta? Are you alright?" Nappa asked when he saw the young royal hesitate and pale slightly.

The boy's brows furrowed. "I'm fine."

"That's good because Lord Frieza has ordered an audience with you immediately."

Vegeta turned to see Dodoria standing in the doorway with a stupid smirk on his fat, ugly face. He sighed and nodded. He wasn't going to get a meal any time soon, apparently. He followed the pink blob to the throne room with his underlings flanking him. He knew what to expect and he wasn't looking forward to it. After all, he had a year's worth of beatings to make up.

_A/N: Unfortunately I did not have as much time as I would have liked to edit this chapter. Preparing for three weddings this summer definitely takes some of my free time. But you don't care about that. Wow, 70 reviews on the last chapter? That blows my mind. I know I asked for a lot (and I'm sorry if you think that was being a "review whore"), and you didn't disappoint. You gave me great feedback that will help as I write the following chapters. Questions will be addressed in one way or another. I think many of them have already been answered with this chapter._


	26. Memories Lost

Memories Lost

Vegeta knelt in front of Frieza's throne. He was alone, defenseless. Nappa and Raditz were kept at the door, able to do nothing more than watch his next round of torture. Vegeta released a shaky breath and clenched his fists. There was no escape. There would never be any escape. He was stuck, trapped in the degrading life of servitude he hated. He waited for Frieza to acknowledge him. A trickle a sweat ran down his neck. Was he healed only to be beaten again?

"I'm glad to see you've finally recovered, Vegeta," Frieza said.

Vegeta made no response. He didn't miss the lizard's patronizing tone. He knew it took a ridiculously long time to heal. He didn't know exactly how long he had been unconscious, but it had to have been a few days at least.

Frieza swirled the wine in his glass and grinned at the kneeling saiyan. "If I recall correctly, you told me that you used an old saiyan space pod to leave the planet you were stranded on."

"Yes, Lord Frieza."

"You also told me there was no saiyan on the planet, probably dead. His mission was never completed."

Vegeta did not like the direction his interrogation was taking. He had a feeling he knew exactly what Frieza was getting at. Somehow, he had to avoid it. But he couldn't lie. Lying never worked. "Yes, Lord Frieza. It was no loss. The planet is worthless."

"Oh? And what makes you say that?"

"It has limited resources. The natives are weak and primitive. They would be no use to you."

Frieza sipped his wine. Vegeta was hiding something, he could feel it. He was never wrong about Vegeta. Never. "Would it be profitable in the world trade?"

Vegeta froze. He was torn between answering honestly to save himself and lying to save the planet and its inhabitants, specifically his pack. He swallowed. "It may make a very small profit, Lord Frieza. Hardly worth purging."

"I see." Frieza took another drink of his wine. "I appreciate your commentary, my pet, but I will send a team to purge it at once."

"No!"

"Excuse me?" A sly smile crept across the tyrant's black lips.

Vegeta cursed himself. He shook his head. "Nothing, Lord Frieza."

"That's what I thought." He turned his attention to Zarbon, who was standing off to his right. "Zarbon, send word that I want a purge team sent to planet 1076XR right away."

Zarbon bowed. "As you wish, Lord Frieza."

Every scouter in the room came to life as someone's power level jumped. The noise of the scouters rose in volume as the power increased. Many of the soldiers looked around, wondering who the source of the power was. Vegeta's spikes of hair appeared to be blowing in the wind. But there was no wind. Some of the soldiers closer to him took a step back.

Frieza's smile widened. Seems he struck a nerve. "Is something the matter, monkey?"

Vegeta growled. His tail bristled and unwound from his waist to lash behind him. He looked up at his master with pure, unadulterated loathing burning in his obsidian eyes. "You will not purge that planet," he said, so low he was barely audible. His voice was laced with his checked rage.

The tyrant's smile turned down. "You presume to tell me what I can and cannot do?"

"You will not purge it!" Vegeta roared. In a flash he sprang from his position on the floor and fired a beam of ki at point blank range at Frieza. Some of the older model scouters exploded when his power flared beyond their limit. He landed in a crouch, ready to fight. He didn't care how severely outclassed he was. He had to protect his pack. He was doing the very thing that made him swear off all attachments years ago. He was risking his life for the sake of another.

Frieza was taken by surprise at Vegeta's outburst. How could he have become _that_ powerful? It didn't matter, he was still far too weak to pose a threat. He rose out of his throne and scowled at the child prince.

The frisson amongst the soldiers was palpable as hushed voices exploded throughout the throne room, but one rose above the rest. "His power is over 25,000!"

Vegeta snarled as his tormentor slowly approached as if stalking his prey. He screamed and forced his power higher until the ki burned his muscles. He shot forward and started kicking and punching faster than many could see. His fury grew as Frieza easily blocked or dodged each blow. He spun around and finally managed to land a roundhouse kick on Frieza's head, but the lizard was unfazed. That didn't mean the kick didn't anger him. He reached up, grabbed the saiyan's leg, and swung him around and around before launching him into the far wall. Vegeta was stunned, but he jumped to his feet and charged the lizard. At the last second he phased behind Frieza to attack from behind, but his attack was met with an elbow in his gut. He doubled over, coughing and gasping for air.

"You little trickster," Frieza growled, "You brought this upon yourself."

He slapped Vegeta with his tail, cutting his cheek. Vegeta winced in pain, but instead of stepping down he raised his ki until he was surrounded by an electric blue aura. He stepped forward and threw a ki blast at Frieza. But the blast hit the soldiers on the opposite side of the room, killing them instantly.

'Damnit!' Vegeta thought. 'Where did he go?' He spun in a circle, looking around warily for any sign of the lizard. All he saw was a group of terrified soldiers backed against the walls. He sneered at their cowardice. Then he saw Zarbon sneaking toward the door on his way to give orders to purge Earth. Vegeta shot into the air and kicked Zarbon to the floor, landing in a low crouch.

Zarbon rose to his feet, his left hand covering his cheek where Vegeta kicked him. He glared at the saiyan prince, angrier about his flawless appearance being maimed than anything. His right hand clenched into a fist. "Why you little monkey brat! You'll pay for that!"

Nappa and Raditz tried to run to their prince, to get him to calm down, but they were restrained by the guards at the door. They growled. Always held back, they could never, _never_ help their prince when he was in trouble. They struggled and cursed but the guards were stronger and unrelenting.

"Damnit! What is he doing?" Raditz hissed to Nappa.

The bald saiyan growled and thrashed about to free himself. "I don't know. I haven't seen him like this since Frieza murdered the king and queen!"

Raditz stopped struggling and stared dumbly at his superior. "Oh no. You don't think?"

"Don't say it."

"But he—"

_"Shut up! Use your head, you idiot. If you say it and someone hears you, Frieza will know and take advantage of it."_

Raditz pursed his lips and glanced over at the fight between Zarbon and Vegeta. The young prince was holding his own in his rage. _"It's true though, isn't it? He's formed bonds with someone on that planet. He's acting on instinct to protect them."_

_ "Yes. Damnit! He can't do this, not now! He's not powerful enough!"_

_ "You have to admit, he's pretty damn strong. Last I heard his power was peaking at 31,000."_

_ "It's not enough."_

_ "I know."_

Zarbon blocked Vegeta's punch with his forearm and swung his leg forward, connecting with Vegeta's groin and sending him flying into the wall behind him. Vegeta cringed as pain exploded through his body, but he wouldn't quit. He picked himself up from the floor and flew at his opponent again. Before he could reach Zarbon, though, Frieza appeared out of nowhere and smacked him to the floor again. He didn't rise from his prone position as a rivulet of blood oozed from a gash on his temple.

"What the hell was that about?" Zarbon wondered aloud. He smirked at the fallen prince and batted his emerald braid over his shoulder.

Frieza grinned, then started chuckling. His chuckles grew until he was howling with laughter. "I think I just figured out how to finally break my monkey prince, Zarbon!"

"What do you mean, Lord?"

"Oh, this is just too much! My monkey wants to protect someone on that little mudball. He thinks he can save them from the almighty Frieza!" The tyrant laughed again.

Zarbon joined in on his laughter. "How precious."

"Change of plans, Zarbon. I don't want to send a purge team to that planet. It's probably not worth it anyway. Summon Malaka."

"Yes, my Lord," Zarbon said as he bowed. He turned on his heel and strode out of the throne room to find the scientist and doctor who was most knowledgeable about saiyan anatomy. The green man had no idea what his master was planning, but it had to be good if Malaka was to be involved somehow. He grinned maliciously.

Frieza returned to his throne and picked up his glass of wine. It was a wonderful day, indeed, when he finally found the key to breaking his little pet's pride forever. His plan would take time, of course, but the sweetest rewards were worth waiting for. He smirked and took another sip of his wine. 'I should kill him for his insolence, but I have much better things in store for him. He will be all mine. I will break him completely, and then that raw power will be mine to use. Sleep well, _Prince_ Vegeta, because when you wake up you're going to pay for this little tantrum.' Frieza cracked his knuckles and ran his tongue over his top lip. How he loved his monkey.

...

Bulma rolled onto her stomach and sighed contentedly. Another day spent on the beach was perfectly heavenly. It was their last day in Spain and she intended to spend it doing nothing but relaxing. They were going to Italy the next day, sailing across the Mediterranean. She was thoroughly enjoying her vacation with her parents. There was nothing better than sand, sun, and water, and there was plenty of it everywhere they were going.

She reached over and pulled a magazine out of her mother's beach bag and started flipping through the glossy pages. She ogled the pictures of cute male models and dreamed of someday looking as good as the glamorous women with their long, perfect legs, shiny, voluminous hair, and manicured nails. Their pictures were almost enough to make her kick the habit of chewing her nails when she was deep in thought, but not quite. The actual articles in the magazine were boring to her. The majority of them were celebrity gossip and news about reality shows that were going to start soon. She wasn't interested in any of that. Why would she be? At ten years old she was as famous as any of the actresses hitting the headlines, though for different reasons. She was known for her wealth and intelligence, not her sex scandals.

Maybe she was a bit young, but she couldn't help wishing that someday she would find herself a perfect prince charming who was as smart as her and handsome to boot. He would worship the ground she walked on and treat her like a real princess. She scoffed at her own silly thoughts. Who was she kidding? At the rate she was going, she would never meet anyone her age who would ever be worthy of her attention. At school she was with kids years older than her. When she graduated from college and started working at Capsule Corporation, she would be surrounded by people old enough to be her grandparents. Finding her prince charming there wasn't likely. She shook those thoughts from her mind. She was much too young to be worrying about these things, she reminded herself.

"I can't wait to grow up," she mumbled. It was frustrating, sometimes, having the intelligence above and beyond that of an average adult. Still, she was a child and she had the maturity of a child, which made it hard for anyone to take her seriously.

Mrs. Brief turned her head to see her daughter at her side. "What was that, dear?"

"Nothing, Mom," Bulma said, closing the magazine and shoving it back in the bag. "So I'm going to start lessons at the dojo as soon as we get back, right?"

"If that's what you want." Mrs. Brief pushed her sunglasses up on her forehead and sipped her diet cola. "Are you that eager to start?"

"Yeah. I think it's going to be a lot of fun. Hopefully I'm not grouped with a bunch of five year-olds because I'm a beginner though."

Mrs. Brief giggled. "You're not a beginner, honey. Vegeta taught you a lot already."

"I guess." Bulma shrugged and started playing with a loose strand of hair. "You don't think Vegeta would come back while we're away, do you?"

"Don't worry, honey. If he comes back he knows he's welcome even if we're not there," Mrs. Brief reassured her daughter, though inside she wasn't as confident as she sounded. She had the same fear, sometimes. She was not nearly as hopeful in the boy's return as her daughter, but that didn't mean she had completely given up on him. In fact, every morning and every evening she would silently pray that Vegeta would come home soon, safe and sound. The idea of anything bad happening to him was more than enough to break her heart all over again.

"Do you think he ever thinks about us?"

"I'm sure he does, sweetie. You know I don't think he really _wanted_ to go, but he felt he had to. Call me crazy, but I think he thought of us as his family as much as we think of him as family. He won't forget us."

"I hope so."

...

Zarbon strode into the throne room and bowed before his master. "Lord Frieza, Malaka is here."

"Thank you Zarbon, you may let him in," Frieza said. He stole a glance at the lifeless form of the saiyan prince still sprawled out on his floor. The puddle of blood around his head had grown considerably over the past few minutes. He'd had to order the other monkeys be removed from his throne room with all the commotion they were making trying to get to him to take him to the medical bay. Frieza wasn't going to let him enter a rejuvenation chamber yet. He was in need of a little operation first.

His cold, red eyes shifted to the doors as they opened and the brown reptilian man with a tuft of orange feathers crowning his head walked in and knelt down respectfully. "You wished to see me, Lord Frieza?"

Frieza sat down in his throne and made himself comfortable before speaking. "You are the doctor who takes care of the saiyan monkeys, are you not?"

"Yes, Lord Frieza. I have studied their unique physiology extensively."

"Very good. I have a small task for you involving Vegeta. You see, he has been away for over a year, and during that time he acquired a new source of power, shall we say?" Frieza took a sip of his wine and continued, "Rather than destroying that power source, I want to use it to control him. Tell me, is it possible to make him forget all memories of the past year of his pitiful existence?"

Malaka was silent for a few moments, unsure of how to answer. "Lord Frieza, it would be possible to operate on his brain and create lesions that would damage his memory, but I do not know that it would be possible to only take away memories from a specific time period."

Frieza frowned. He did not like that answer very much at all. "Oh really?"

The reptilian scientist stammered a little before starting over. "What I mean to say, Lord, is that it may be easier to install a device in his brain that will, in effect, short circuit any memories he has of a particular thing. Would that be acceptable, my Lord?"

"I fail to see how that would be any easier. How will you know which memories to disrupt?"

"Er, well, if you could tell me what he was thinking about when he found this new power, I would be able to make him think of it again and use a brain scan to map the areas of his brain most active, Lord." Malaka was not sure that this would truly be possible. What his master was asking him to do was uncharted territory in neuroscience. Of course he could easily destroy memories by damaging the saiyan's hippocampus, but how could he target the damage to only affect particular memories? There was no way to do it without damaging other memories as well.

Frieza propped his elbow on his armrest and held his chin in his hand. He was growing bored. He swirled the wine in his glass with his free hand. "I mentioned purging and selling the planet where he resided during that year. He has grown attachments to someone there, I believe. I want him to forget that person or persons. However, it would be ideal if, at a later time, he was able to access those memories."

Malaka bowed his head. "This is a very difficult experiment, Lord Frieza, but I will try my best." Mentally he cursed his luck. Why was he given such an impossible task? There was no way to make memories come and go! But if he failed, he would surely be killed. He had to figure out a way to do the impossible, and fast.

"You had better not fail me, Malaka. Now take the monkey and go. I expect you to keep me updated on the progress of this little experiment. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Lord Frieza."

While Malaka stood and gathered the saiyan prince in his arms and carried him out of the throne room, Frieza turned his throne to gaze out the window behind him. A cruel smirk was curling his lips as he imagined gaining the stubborn saiyan's complete obedience once and for all. It may take years, but it would be worth it. So very worth it. He finished his wine with a self-satisfied grunt of approval at his own sadistic genius.

Zarbon stood at his side, watching his master from the corner of his eye. He was eager to know what Frieza had in store for the young monkey. "If you don't mind my asking, Lord Frieza, how exactly do you plan to break him by destroying his memories?"

"It is the people on that planet who he has become attached to, Zarbon. They are the reason for his sudden increase in ki. Imagine if he turned that manifest anger inward! It will be glorious."

"Why would he do that, Lord?"

Frieza's smirk grew until his teeth were bared in more of a snarl. "He will not remember them, my dear Zarbon. He will continue his purge missions and grow stronger. I will eradicate the last traces of honor that fool holds on to. But he will never let go of that damned pride." He paused to laugh sinisterly. "At least, not until he destroys _that_ planet. When he does, his memories will be restored, and the guilt will crush the last of his defiance. Then he will be fully mine as he hates himself more than he hates me."

"A brilliant plan, Master."

Malaka entered the medical bay and laid the unconscious saiyan on an examination table. He was still unsure of how to go about the operation that would hopefully keep Vegeta from accessing certain memories, but he had to figure it out soon. At least if his patient woke up before he had it all figured out he would still be too weak to put up much of a fight. A sedative would most likely be sufficient to put him out again. He sighed and cleaned the cut on his temple while he considered how to do what Frieza demanded he do. It disgusted him, really. Malaka spent many years serving on Vegeta-sei and had come to respect the saiyan race in a way most of Frieza's army would never understand. He was able to see the more noble side of them. They were not bloodthirsty monsters until Frieza took control of them. It was a pity, really.

"Foolish saiyan, you always bring this on yourself," he muttered as he finished cleaning up and bandaging some of Vegeta's worse injuries sustained in his short, brutal fight. He sighed and rolled the bed to the machine that could map his brain and show which areas activated when given different stimuli. "I regret having to do this to you."

The scientist moved the saiyan into the machine and started it up. He sighed again. "Who are you concerned about on planet 1076XR, Vegeta?"

He looked at the screen when it blipped to life. He was given a detailed three-dimensional picture of Vegeta's brain with the most active areas appearing bright red. As he predicted, the most active areas were in the hippocampal region. The brain scan was only so accurate though. It was going to be difficult to stop his brain from being able to access memories from any particular area and not have any adverse effects on another area. Malaka asked Vegeta more questions concerning his stay on Earth, hoping to get as small an area as possible located with the scan.

'At least saiyans are aware of external stimuli even if they're out cold,' Malaka thought. They might not remember anything that happened around them, but numerous experiments showed that they could at least mentally respond to their surroundings while unconscious. That was about the extent of Malaka's assurance that he had narrowed down what area of Vegeta's brain he needed to operate on to get the desired results.

"I wonder how obvious it will be to you that you're missing a year's memories," Malaka said to the boy saiyan. "Perhaps I can make it that your thoughts will be redirected to different memories when you try to retrieve these. I'm not sure how, though."

The old doctor wheeled Vegeta into a private room and hooked him up to machines to measure his vitals while he worked out a method to reroute his memories. He was still reluctant to put him in a rejuvenation tank and have him fully healed before he could operate. Frieza wanted this done immediately, probably without having to knock the prince out again. Not that he really minded beating up his favorite pet, but he expected Malaka to obey promptly. Letting Vegeta heal before taking away his memories was not prompt enough.

After turning on the alarms that would alert him to any sudden changes in Vegeta's vital signs, Malaka returned to the brain scan machine to print the readouts from the scan and come up with a way to make Vegeta remember different things when he tried to remember the past year, or at least the people who he had become attached to. Malaka was not known for being a particularly sympathetic man, but he wasn't thrilled about doing this to the young prince. It was despicable to fuddle with another person's mind. Alas, orders were orders. He would sooner cross Vegeta than Frieza any day.

'Perhaps if I can design a synthetic neuron, I could connect it to the presynaptic neurons here and connect the axon in another area of the hippocampus.' Malaka turned to his personal computer and brought up all the files he had on saiyan neuropsychology. It would be tricky. Saiyans were notorious for rejecting any sort of prosthetics. Their immune systems would attack and destroy any foreign material quite rapidly.

'Another problem is that Lord Frieza wants Vegeta to be able to access these memories later. If the neurons aren't stimulated, they'll die. How can I prevent that from happening?' Malaka rubbed his forehead and rapped his fingers on his keyboard. There had to be a way to go about this without messing up and signing his death sentence.

Then the answer came to him: Stem cells. He could grow new neurons and implant them in Vegeta's brain. He would have to make sure they had the exact immunoglobulins and chemokines to guide them to the right area of the brain to form synaptic connections, but it was possible. He could also implant a tiny device that would periodically stimulate the disconnected neurons to keep them alive until it was time to reestablish the original connections.

"This had better work," he grumbled as he stood and gathered the materials he would need for the experiment. Trying it first on a less-valuable specimen would be preferable, but who else was there? Nappa? Raditz? Saiyans were practically extinct. He didn't have many to work with, so he would have to hope it went right the first time.

Malaka went into Vegeta's room. The room was silent aside from the shallow breathing of the saiyan and the beeping of the machines. Malaka prepared a syringe and rolled Vegeta onto his stomach. He was grateful he was still unconscious. That made things much easier. He stuck the needle in the base of Vegeta's tail and extracted the fluid from a small ventricle known to contain a high concentration of undifferentiated cells. The location made it easy for the stem cells to travel throughout the saiyan's body and take the place of damaged tissue anywhere.

The scientist stored the sample of stem cells and prepared for the first minor surgical operation. He washed his hands, put on gloves, and got started right away, not bothering with anesthetic. Either Vegeta wouldn't feel it because he was already unconscious or he would feel it and suffer through the procedure. Most soldiers weren't given the luxury of numbness in surgery anyway. Malaka cut a small hole in Vegeta's skull and took a small biopsy of Vegeta's brain to grow the stem cells in. He bandaged the saiyan's head and checked for any changes in his vitals. There was nothing worth noting.

'Saiyans really are a remarkable species.' Malaka put the biopsy in a Petri dish and added some of the stem cells he had collected. Watching them under a microscope, he could see them beginning to differentiate into neurons. So far his plan was working without a hitch, but it was still very early in the process, so he wasn't going to celebrate yet.

He was startled by one of the machines sounding an alarm as Vegeta's vitals changed. He looked over and saw the young saiyan rousing. Vegeta groaned and raised his hand to his head. No doubt the incision from earlier was stinging. Malaka stood and ran to his side.

"What's going on? I need a healing tank," Vegeta murmured. He felt groggy and every muscle in his body was burning in pain. Maybe he'd overdone it with the ki. "What happened?"

"You tried to fight Frieza," Malaka answered.

'Just great, now I'm going to have to knock him out again,' he thought.

Vegeta's eyes opened wide. "No! He sent a purge team to Earth. Damnit! I have to stop them!" The saiyan tried to sit up but a wave of dizziness hit him hard and he fell on his back.

"Lord Frieza has decided not to purge that planet," Malaka informed him. "Though I don't see what the big deal is."

"My…pack," Vegeta mumbled before slipping into the dark oblivion of unconsciousness.

Malaka sighed with relief. It was better that he wasn't required to use a sedative on the saiyan. He was already badly injured and his body was, no doubt, working to repair the extensive damage. A sedative would only slow down the process as his immune system would divide its focus between healing and destroying the substance flowing through his bloodstream.

"Your pack, Vegeta? You're in deeper than I thought." Malaka returned to his work, growing the stem cells into neurons sensitive to the right chemicals to guide them in growth away from the memories of Earth once they were implanted in Vegeta's brain.

While the stem cells were growing and differentiating, Malaka set to work designing a device that would provide electrical impulses to the areas being bypassed. Their connections would be cut, disabling him from being aware of the memories housed there even if the neurons were activated. He sent the design to the technology department in an urgent message. Hopefully the scientists there would have it prepared in an hour or less. During that time, he would implant the new neurons and make sure they grew as he hoped they would.

Brain surgery is risky business. Any wrong move and the patient could be permanently disabled or even killed. Malaka never enjoyed performing brain surgery, which was part of the reason he chose to specialize in saiyan medicine. They were mostly capable of healing their own brain injuries without his help. Throw them in a rejuvenation tank and they were good to go. But, unfortunately, he was given the daunting task of making Vegeta's memories irretrievable. Make him lose them, or at least make him overlook them no matter how hard he tried to access them.

The stem cells were ready. Some of the galaxy's best scientists were building a microscopic chip to stimulate the neurons responsible for the saiyan's memories that need to disappear. It would be finished shortly. Malaka needed to get started, not wanting to incur the wrath of Frieza or risk the saiyan prince waking up before he was finished with the operation. That would be disastrous. But, in case it happened, Malaka strapped the saiyan down to the bed so he wouldn't be able to move if he did wake up.

Malaka removed the bandage from Vegeta's head and sterilized a probe to insert in his brain, being as careful as possible not to tear any tissue unnecessarily. He had a monocle that magnified what he was seeing to the cellular level. Using the brain maps created by the scan, he located the area that needed to be cut off from the rest.

'There.' The reptilian scientist injected the new neurons into Vegeta's brain and watched as they moved and formed connections with other neurons. The old neurons retracted their axons and dendrites, effectively cutting themselves off from all contact with other neurons. 'Perfect. I hope this works.'

He heard the door to the operating room open and another doctor walked in. Appule. Malaka turned to him. "Do you have it?"

"Yes." He held up a pair of pincers that presumably held a device too small for the naked eye to see. Appule handed the pincers to the working doctor and watched as he dropped the unseen device into the probe.

Malaka could see the tiny device through his monocle. He pushed it to one of the disconnected neurons, which it latched on to like a parasite. The neuron was still connected to the others that had been bypassed in the operation, so any impulse it received would be transmitted to the rest, keeping them all alive.

"It's done." Malaka retracted the probe and set it on the tray next to the operation table. He placed the cutaway piece of bone back in place. The saiyan's immune system would take care of the rest, making sure it wouldn't become dislodged. He sutured up the incision, applied some antibiotic cream, and put a bandage over it.

Appule was curious about the experimental operation. He was highly amused that the saiyan was being used as a sort of guinea pig. He hated Vegeta more than most of the doctors on the ship. Too often had the young saiyan threatened his life and spoken to him disrespectfully. "Did it work?"

The older doctor shrugged. "We'll find out once he's healed. We won't know until he reports his memories to us."

Appule nodded. "Shall I prepare a rejuvenation chamber for him?"

"Yes."

A few minutes later Vegeta was in the rejuvenation tank, hooked up to the breathing tube and electrodes to measure his vitals. Malaka entered the code to fill it with synthetic saiyan DNA and watched the blue-green viscous fluid fill the tank. It would take at least a few hours for the saiyan to be fully healed of all his injuries and the operation. Until then, he could only hope the experiment was successful. Either way, he would report to Frieza that he was finished and waiting for Vegeta to recover so he could check if it was effective or not.

Forcing back his fear, Malaka went to Frieza's throne room to update his master on the progress of the saiyan prince. He was met at the doors by the two guards, but was allowed in shortly. He hurried inside and knelt down before the galactic overlord.

"What is your report, Malaka?" Frieza asked, for once truly interested in his subject's news.

"Lord Frieza, I have performed an operation on Vegeta that should keep him from accessing his memories. I have also tried to ensure those memories will not be permanently lost, only made irretrievable until another operation is done to reverse it. I will not know how successful the operation was until he has regained consciousness."

"And if it didn't work?"

"I will try again, my Lord. I will find a way to do as you have asked."

"Very well. You are dismissed."

"Thank you, Lord Frieza." Malaka rose to his feet and dashed out of the throne room and back to the medical bay. He stopped at Vegeta's rejuvenation chamber and checked his vitals. All the readouts were promising. He would be fully recovered in four and a half hours. It was a long time to wait and see if he could remember his "pack," but there was little else the doctor could do to speed the healing process.

'I really am sorry to do this to you, Vegeta. It is unfortunate that you ever formed attachments to other beings. You should have known better.'

The next four and a half hours crawled by. During that time every doctor and scientist on the ship had learned of the experiment done to the monkey prince and they were gathered in the medical bay to hear about the success or failure of the operation first-hand. Frieza had even sent Zarbon to get word on the saiyan. His presence only served to make Malaka more nervous as he drained the fluid from the tank and opened the door to let Vegeta out.

The saiyan stepped out of the chamber and snatched the towel Malaka held out for him. He wrapped it around his waist and glared at all the aliens standing around watching him. He wasn't some sort of science experiment, what were they so interested in him for? He snarled and turned to Malaka. "What are they doing here?"

"Uh, well, you see, Vegeta, they're all here to see if you've recovered."

"Recovered from what? What am I doing here?"

Malaka frowned, at least as much as his beak would allow him to frown. "You don't remember anything that happened?"

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at the doctor. "I was sent on a mission to purge planet 1084XR. What am I doing on Frieza's ship?"

"Is that the last thing you remember?" Malaka's eyes lit up with excitement. That was the mission he was on when he crash-landed on planet 1076XR.

"Is there anything else I _should_ remember?" Vegeta asked, suspicion lowering his voice.

'Damn! Maybe I should have tried to give him false memories!' Malaka shrugged and pretended to be more interested in reading the saiyan's vitals readouts than answering his question. "Nothing other than the crash-landing you had. Nappa and Raditz brought you back in a coma. You've only just now regained consciousness. It's been over a year, Vegeta."

"What?" he shouted, panic rising in his chest, "A whole year? Damnit!"

Malaka nodded sadly and finished examining the readouts. "If you'll come with me, Vegeta, I need to run some tests to make sure you have fully recovered. I think you should have a brain scan just to be sure."

Vegeta followed the doctor to the brain scan machine and laid down. He mistook the snickers of the doctors as mockery for his year-long coma. A whole year! It was impossible! Saiyans were never disabled for that long! Not by some stupid crash-landing! It was humiliating. How could it have taken _that _long to recover, especially if he was in the rejuvenation chamber?

"I need you to try to remember anything that happened after you left for your last mission, Vegeta," Malaka ordered. "Do you remember anything about the planet? Or its people?"

Vegeta frantically searched through his memory bank for anything about 1084XR. There was nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was as if there was an enormous void in his memory that would never be filled in. Nothing but darkness. All he could remember was what happened up until he entered stasis mode. He growled in frustration and embarrassment. Gone. It was gone.

"Nothing." But for some reason he thought he could smell cinnamon, sugar, tobacco, and strawberries. Not that he knew what any of those were. Strange.

On the brain scan Malaka could see one tiny area of Vegeta's brain that didn't light up with activity. The area he disconnected from all the rest. It lit up every few seconds independently of the neurons around it due to the implanted stimulation device. The experiment worked better than he ever could have imagined. Vegeta's memories were there, but he would never be able to find them.

Sad, really. But it saved his skin.

_A/N: So several reviewers have mentioned it's confusing when I switch between scenes with Bulma and Vegeta, so I tried to separate them to make it clearer. Personally, I prefer not having any such divisions, but I put them there for your benefit. Let me know if it helps or if you don't like it. I know the procedure here is a bit of a stretch scientifically, but hey, that's what science fiction and suspended disbelief are for, right? Bet you didn't see it coming, in any case. :)_


	27. Dying Conscience

Dying Conscience

The stars were shining brightly in the velvety black sky overhead. The city was quiet, the lights dim; it was peaceful, as though every being there had gone to bed early to rise early at the crack of dawn. The stillness was broken by the birds and insects flitting through the air, their wings a quiet whisper rippling through the silence. The moon was high in the sky, outshining the most brilliant star with its fullness. Its light reflected off the snowy ground, scattering through the darkness, giving the world an eerily beautiful aura.

A burning flash of light seared across the night sky. Then another. And another. The flashes were followed by ground-trembling booms in the distance, sending a shockwave rolling across the ground and obliterating the weaker structures. The birds fled, the calm sound of their feathers in the gentle breeze replaced with frantic cries of pain and panic. The city's residents – the ones not killed in the destruction – ran from their homes to see what was happening. There were no signs of a natural disaster, so what then?

Three space pods opened and a saiyan stepped out of each. Two gigantic, one small. They surveyed the area, sniffed the air, and smirked. The smell of fear was already filling the planet's atmosphere. This was going to be easy. The shortest saiyan raised his hand and pushed the button on the side of his scouter twice to get a reading of the power levels they would have to contend with on the small planet. He was more eager than the others to get started. He had been out of commission for a year before being sent on this assignment. After he woke from his coma, it had been another half year before they were given this assignment. It took three absmonths to reach this little planet. Finally he would be able to satisfy his thirst for blood. After nearly daily beatings for months on end, he was ready to shed someone else's blood. A purge was exactly what he needed.

"What's it say, Prince Vegeta?" Nappa asked while rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. He was excited about a new mission, hopefully a challenging one after a year spent on Frieza's ship doing almost nothing.

Vegeta scoffed. "This planet's natives are pathetic. The average power level is 30. There's only 12 million. This is going to be a breeze."

The disappointment was evident in the bald saiyan's expression. He stretched his back and clenched his hands into fists. "What? That's ridiculous!"

"Obviously, you idiot. Frieza doesn't want us getting any good fights. Our power might grow too much." Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and levitated off the ground. "Nappa, head west. Raditz, take the north. I'll get the rest. Meet back here as soon as you're finished."

"Yes, sir," the older saiyans said in unison. Their ki flared up around them and they took off in the direction they were told.

'Doesn't want _us_ to get stronger?' Raditz mused. 'No, Prince, Frieza doesn't want _you_ to get stronger. Not after that display in his throne room. But you don't even remember. He made sure of that.'

The long-haired saiyan landed in the city that was already partially destroyed and started blasting any sentient being he saw running in the streets. He couldn't remember the last time he enjoyed a purge. When he was first enlisted in Frieza's army separate from the saiyan ranks, he'd thought it was the greatest achievement in his life. He wasn't especially strong, but he was brutal. He loved killing. Now, though, it had gotten too mundane. Kill a few people here, a few people there, what was the fun in it anymore? No one put up a decent fight. He was still far below the power levels of his comrades, but much stronger than most of the beings they ever encountered on their purges. His power was peaking at 3,000 now, but so what? He never got to use it. He had an itching in the back of his mind that maybe killing like this wasn't honorable. It wasn't as thrilling as he first thought it to be. It was little more than a chore done for a creature he despised. He flew above the city and threw a Double Sunday down on it and left to find the next group of people to slaughter. 'I hope the others are having more fun than me. This blows.'

Vegeta touched down at a small village and pushed the button on his scouter to get an exact number of the population. Only a few over 400. Hardly worth wasting his time. He sighed and walked through the village, blasting each house into oblivion and all the residents with them. He never saw a single one of his victims before he took off for the next town. He didn't know why, but he preferred not seeing the horror in their eyes, the sympathy they held for him until their dying breath, as if he were the one to be pitied. It reminded him of his earliest purges, when he couldn't stand to look at the people as he slaughtered them. He had grown out of that, though. He learned to find amusement in their terror and satisfaction in their pain. So why was he back to this? Why did it feel _wrong_ to kill these people? They were nothing. Their lives were meaningless. He should feel no shame in ending their lives. They were weak; he was strong. Yes, he was very strong, which only raised more questions for him.

'Why is it that I am so much stronger than before if I was in a coma for a year? I was unable to train during that time. It doesn't make sense. Unless my power grew substantially because of the coma.' Vegeta looked down at his hands and clenched and unclenched them into fists. He felt power like he never had before coursing through him. More than anything he wanted to be able to use it, to test it against a worthy opponent. But if Frieza had his way, he would never fight a good battle again. He growled and sped up his flight. He was eager to get this purge over with as soon as possible. It seemed trivial anyway. What was so great about such a puny planet? Either someone had offered a good price for it or there were resources available that he didn't know about.

He saw another small town and blasted it as he flew past. This definitely wasn't worth his time. Raditz could have been sent alone and would have wiped the planet clean of life in no time. But for some unfathomable reason his whole squadron was sent on the three month-long journey to purge this one planet. Then it would be another three months back to Frieza's ship.

'This is absurd! I could have better spent my time training!' Vegeta couldn't explain why he wanted to train so badly. It had always been something he was obligated to do since before he could remember clearly. He trained essentially every day of his life, but he never really _liked_ it that well. Now it seemed to be the only thing that was ever on his mind. He wanted to train and his body was filled with unspent energy. He was frustrated. He needed an outlet for his power. Whatever the reason for his new obsession with training, it didn't matter. He wanted to train.

Vegeta ran across a large city and landed on one of the skyscrapers. "Die, fools." He raised his right hand and gathered a sizable ball of ki and sent it directly into the center of the city. There was a short delay and then an enormous explosion that shook the planet's foundations. The entire city was wiped away as if it had never been. Vegeta hovered in the air over the destruction. There were no signs of life evident. Nothing more than a crater laid below him. He smirked and darted off to find the next city the planet had to offer.

Raditz stopped in his attack on a town when his scouter came to life and showed a power level of 12,000 across the globe. He shook his head in wonder. That couldn't have been anyone but Vegeta. It was almost frightening how powerful he had become. When he first arrived at Frieza's ship after his disappearance, he was rumored to have a power level of 10,000. But he was there in the throne room when he fought Frieza and Zarbon. His power had skyrocketed to over 30,000. Where did that power go? Why did he never show it again? That power put him at the top of the elites of Frieza's army. That was stronger than Dodoria, even. He hoped his prince didn't gain so much power so fast that it would consume him. He'd heard of older warriors being destroyed by their own power. Vegeta was still a boy with a horrible temper. His power always rose when he went into a rage; if he was capable of raising it so high, would he be able to push it still higher if he was overwhelmed with fury? Would he be able to control himself? Raditz feared not.

'He's got to be more bored than I am. He's going to have to take it out on someone sometime.' Raditz smirked at first, imagining Vegeta pummeling the soldiers on Frieza's ship, but it faded when he realized that more often than not, Vegeta was alone with himself and Nappa. 'He wouldn't kill _us_, would he?'

Vegeta checked his scouter to find the nearest group of natives. He located another city a hundred miles further south and took off in that direction. It was almost a shame it would be such a quick purge. They would have it done before the night was over at the rate they were going. They wouldn't even get to stick around for the full moon. No wonder his blood was boiling. It was so close. The blutz waves were almost enough to make him transform, but not quite. Still, the primal urges were affecting him. He wanted to destroy the whole damn planet. Blow it to smithereens. Watch it float away as space dust and then go destroy more. A wicked smirk crossed his face. Lucky for this planet he wasn't going to transform into an oozaru before he left. Not that it would be worth the trouble anyway. It was pathetic.

As Vegeta traveled around the planet destroying city after city, ending millions of lives single-handedly, he couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't right. That he could be so much better than a killing machine used for the lizard's purpose. He'd never really enjoyed killing for the sake of Frieza's growing empire, but it was sickening him in a way that left him questioning his actions in a way he hadn't before. As if, from nowhere, he had grown a small conscience that was disgusted with him for killing so senselessly. It was a weak voice, whispering in the depths of his mind that he should not kill, especially not without good reason. It was easily ignored for the most part, but as the night progressed and he killed more, it grew louder and more irritating. Despite his desire for causing mayhem and death, it was persistent.

Finally it seemed to scream at him to stop as he raised his hand, a glowing orb of ki held in his palm ready to throw down on an unsuspecting town. He was startled and nearly lost the ki he had gathered. 'What the hell is wrong with me?' he wondered, shaking his head. He'd lost his conscience years ago; it was tossed aside along with his blackened soul. It was the only way to survive as Frieza's slave. Having a conscience would lead to madness and death. He already knew he was damned to hell because of his actions, what was the point in acting as if it mattered now? He killed so he lived. Was that wrong? Was it wrong to survive so that one day he could avenge his people? That was the ultimate goal, the reason he was willing to commit such atrocities in Frieza's name.

He growled. He knew killing helpless civilians wasn't honorable. He wasn't so stupid as to believe killing like this would do anything to build up his pride. But since when had he cared? He threw the ki ball into the center of the town in defiant rage and flew on to the next village nearby. He almost felt sick with guilt. 'I just need to get used to it again. It's been too long.'

'You can't do this!' the voice inside raged as he destroyed yet another peaceful village.

Vegeta snarled and clawed at his temples. "Shut up! Get out of my head!"

'It isn't right! They have no way to defend themselves!'

"I don't care! Leave me alone!"

'What you're doing is disgraceful.'

"Where the hell did you come from anyway?"

The voice was silent. Smirking to himself, Vegeta hurried on to the next city, hoping he had effectively silenced the voice for good. He didn't know why he was suddenly remembering past purges, but it didn't matter. It only helped to remind him that this is what he was made for, shaped into. A killer. He had no conscience, no remorse. He hated the reason he killed, but he saw it as opportunity to grow in strength. One day he would be the most powerful being in the universe. He would slowly, torturously kill the lizard and take his place as ruler of the universe. If that meant the blood of billions staining his hands, so be it. There were worse things. Right?

"I must be losing my mind," Vegeta muttered to himself as he blew up a chain of farmhouses. Talking to himself was a sure sign of that. "Not that it would be the first time."

By the time the sun rose over the horizon Vegeta had cleared all life from his quadrants of the planet. He lowered himself to the ground, knee-deep in snow, and crossed his arms over his chest. There was a fire raging behind him, burning up the last remains of civilization in the southern hemisphere. He pushed the button on his scouter to send a transmission to his comrades.

"Nappa, Raditz, are you done yet?"

"Affirmative," Nappa replied.

Raditz took a moment longer to respond. "Just finishing up, sir."

"Good," Vegeta said. "Meet back at the pods. I want to hurry up and get a new assignment. Maybe we'll get something worthwhile next time." The two older saiyans grumbled in agreement and cut the transmissions.

He couldn't explain why, but he desperately wanted to vacate the planet after ridding it of its inhabitants. It seemed too barren, the smoldering city ruins silently raising accusations against him. Every blank, empty stare he received from the eyes of the corpses made him shudder with revulsion. Why did he kill them? What was the point? Yes, to grow stronger. Yes, to serve Frieza. Two goals, two purposes that were mutually exclusive. Eventually one of them would win out over the other, and Vegeta feared it would be the latter. If that were true, then it really _was_ pointless to kill these people. Their deaths would be in vain. While he might not have ever cared before, he couldn't dismiss the feeling that it was all very wrong.

By the time he touched down at the space pods, he decided he would have to kill more, even more ruthlessly, and eradicate the conscience that had taken up residence in his mind. His conscience. That was laughable. He gave that up when he was a young boy, when he was forced to accompany others on purge missions. In order to kill, he had to break free from traditional moral constraints. That meant abandoning any ethical values that told him it was unacceptable to kill people. He was going to destroy these foolish feelings of guilt, doubt, and regret. The people on this planet were nothing. Scum. If he wanted to kill them for his own benefit, they should be honored. He was the Prince of all Saiyans. He lived by no man's rules. And no stupid voice in the back of his head was going to convince him otherwise.

…

Bulma slammed her history book shut and sighed heavily, leaning back in her chair and propping up her feet on her desk. She ran her hands through her long hair and stared at the ceiling. She was tired of studying. It wasn't as if she was learning anything new or interesting anyway. But until she finished the assigned reading she wouldn't be able to truthfully tell her mother that she had finished all of her homework. And until she finished that, she wasn't allowed to train. She frowned and crossed her arms over her stomach.

'It's been years. Two whole years. Is he ever going to come back to us? I miss him so much.' Bulma sighed again and gazed out her balcony doors. The colors of autumn were in their most brilliant shades. She could hear the wind blowing through the dying leaves, the normal rustle a bit more scratchy than before. 'He's probably gone for good. I don't want to believe it, but he'd be back by now if he was coming back at all. But can I really give up hope on him so easily? He never said he'd be able to return _soon_. Maybe he's just been delayed.'

Whenever Bulma started to doubt her friend's promise she would get a terrible sinking feeling in her stomach. She refused to lose faith in him. He wouldn't have bothered promising to return if he didn't intend to. He wasn't that kind of person. He always did what he said he was going to do. He'd mentioned a few times that he was going to kill the creep who abused him. While she prayed _that_ wasn't true, she also remembered he said it would take a long time to become strong enough to accomplish that goal. Maybe, wherever he was, he was training hard to get stronger. She couldn't imagine anyone being so strong as to hold their own against Vegeta. He was a kid and he was incredible. Strong, fast, and he had that ki ability she still couldn't figure out. She would have to remain patient. He had a lot to do. He needed time. If two years wasn't enough, then he wouldn't be back yet. He would come as soon as he possibly could, she was sure of it.

'Unless he forgot about me.' Bulma shook her head and scowled at the wall. 'No, he can't have forgotten about me and my parents! He cared about us, didn't he?'

Bulma stretched her arms over her head and groaned when her elbows and shoulders cracked. She sounded more like an old woman than a young adolescent, she thought. She shoved her history textbook off her desk and glared at it as it fell open on the floor, imploring she read more of it. She was done studying. She didn't care anymore. She wanted to go to the indoor garden and train for a while. Exercising made the dull aches and pains in her joints from sitting too long ease up. And right now she was feeling pretty achy. It made her pretty grouchy, too.

Thinking about Vegeta wasn't going to make her feel any better, that was for sure. He was long gone. She still wished he would return before she finished school so she could have a friend with her for at least a couple years. Though she had to admit, once she reached high school the amount of bullying she endured had decreased significantly. Apparently everyone else was so wrapped up in their own drama that they didn't have time to spend patronizing her. Besides, it was freshmen mating season. All her peers were busy pairing off into couples that would last one or two weeks and then they would find a new boyfriend or girlfriend and start over again. She wasn't a part of it. She had no interest in the boys in her school. They were all a bunch of immature idiots. As her father said, they were still in their larval stage and wouldn't grow out of it until they were at least in their early twenties. That was a long time to wait to find someone to date.

The blue-haired girl pulled off her school clothes and put on a pair of shorts and a tank top before going downstairs to the garden to train for a while before dinner. She only had lessons at the dojo twice a week. It was up to her to keep in shape the remaining five days. It had really boosted her confidence when she first started lessons and was quickly moved from beginner classes to intermediate. Vegeta had done a better job teaching her than she ever would have given him credit for. He hardly ever helped her other than demonstrating what to do, making her practice it a few hundred times, and having her 'spar' with him to make sure she had mastered whatever technique she was learning. But, her personal lessons had paid off. She was much more advanced than she expected. In fact, the techniques she knew astounded her teachers. They claimed they had never seen them performed before. That alone gave her a good dose of pride.

She silently thanked Vegeta for what he had taught her. Not wanting to get rusty in those particular techniques, she made sure to practice them daily, to the point of neglecting what she was learning at the dojo. She sat down on the ground to stretch before starting her workout. There was no point in getting so sore it was hard to move the next day. She'd done that a time or two when she was too eager to get started to take the time to warm up. She regretted that decision each time she made it.

Bulma stood up and moved into the fighting stance Vegeta taught her. She was worried that she was forgetting how to do it properly. It was starting to feel awkward to her. Of course, Vegeta had explained when he was teaching it to her that it was proper for her height, weight, and reach. Maybe that was the problem. She was growing taller, so her arms and legs were longer and she had a longer reach than before. With her added height her weight was increasing as well, making her center of balance change. But even if she knew why her stance didn't feel right anymore, she wasn't sure how to go about fixing it to meet her current needs.

'Guess I'll have to experiment and find out what feels right. It would be easier with a sparring partner, though. I don't want any flaws that make me vulnerable.' Bulma bit her bottom lip as she thought about how to fix her problem. Being heavier, she would need to lower her center of gravity. She bent her knees a little more and leaned forward slightly. She extended her arms further to exploit her longer reach, but that left her sides without as much protection.

She shrugged and bent her arms so her elbows were more to the sides with her fists still raised defensively in front of her chest and face. She relaxed her shoulders and spread her feet, sliding her left foot forward a few inches. The modified stance felt alright, but it would take practice to perfect. Besides, in order to know if it was really going to be effective she would have to use it against a partner. A spar would show her where she needed to increase defense.

Bulma smirked and started to punch an invisible opponent. She definitely liked the new feel. She turned in to a back kick and moved into her kata. The first part of it was copied after her original teacher, but the latter part was from what she learned at the dojo. As she followed her routine she wondered how she would measure up to Vegeta now. No doubt he was training as much as ever, advancing faster than she could ever hope to keep up with. He was getting faster and stronger and she was barely progressing. Frustrated with that thought, she poured more energy into her moves and soon she was sweating heavily and panting as she continued fighting her imaginary opponent.

'I don't care if he's stronger and faster and better in every possible way, I'm going to get better too. Maybe when he comes back we'll be able to have a real spar without him holding back the whole time. I want to show him I'm not weak.' Bulma growled as she shifted her weight to her right foot and lifted her left leg for a side kick.

"Oh, goodness!"

Bulma nearly fell over when she saw her mother standing next to her. She had almost kicked her. She regained her balance and squeaked, "Sorry, Mom."

"Now, Bulma," Mrs. Brief said, planting her hands on her hips, "I don't mind you training in here, but do be careful. Have you finished your homework, young lady?"

The girl bowed her head and laughed nervously. Her mother always managed to catch her when she hadn't done all her homework. It was like a sixth sense with her or something. She shook her head slowly. "No, but I'm almost done. And anyway, I couldn't concentrate. I had to burn off some energy. I promise I'll get it done right after dinner."

Mrs. Brief frowned. Bulma had been slacking on her assignments more than usual lately. All she wanted to do was train, watch TV, and work on her silly inventions.

"Alright, dear. Just make sure you get it done. You don't want your grades slipping."

"Yeah, Mom." Bulma traced shapes in the grass with her toe. "Was there something you needed?"

"Yes, dear. Could you help me out in the kitchen?"

"Sure."

Mrs. Brief and her daughter left the indoor garden and went to the kitchen to prepare dinner. It was not a particularly large meal, but Mrs. Brief felt as though she hadn't seen much of Bulma lately and wanted an excuse to spend some time with her. They had always had a close relationship and she didn't want that to change even if Bulma was entering adolescence. She pulled a mixing bowl from the cupboard and handed it to her daughter.

"Would you be a dear and make the brownies?"

"Yeah." Bulma set the bowl on the counter and dug her mother's secret brownie recipe from the recipe box and started gathering ingredients.

Mrs. Brief went to the kitchen table and started chopping vegetables. "How have you been feeling, dear?"

"Huh? What do you mean?" Bulma asked. She groaned when she accidentally poured too much vanilla in the batter. Hopefully that wouldn't have too much effect on the brownies.

"Oh, you know, in general."

Bulma rolled her eyes. She knew what to expect concerning changes in her body. Her mother didn't need to beat around the bush about it. "Every joint in my body hurts. Aside from that I'm fine."

"That should pass after a while." Mrs. Brief carried the cutting board to the stove and pushed the vegetables into a frying pan to sauté them.

'No, Mom,' Bulma thought. 'I expected it to last forever.'

The conversation didn't continue for a few minutes. Mrs. Brief was busy with the vegetables and Bulma was absorbed in her task. There was nothing more than the sound of sizzling butter and the whisk as Bulma stirred the brownie batter.

Finally, Bulma couldn't take the silence any longer. "So what are we doing for my birthday?"

"I suppose we'll have a big dinner like we always do. Or would you like to do something different this year, honey?"

Bulma shrugged. In a way she wanted to have a real birthday party. She wanted to be able to invite friends and family over to celebrate with her. Unfortunately, she didn't have any friends and her extended family was all but nonexistent. She really had no one to invite. "That's fine."

Mrs. Brief started boiling a pot of rice. "Would you like to go somewhere for your birthday? That would be fun."

"Where would we go?"

"Wherever you'd like to go, dear."

Bulma grinned and ran over to her mother. "Really? Can we?"

Mrs. Brief smiled and stroked her daughter's hair. "Of course, honey. It's your birthday, it should be special."

"Oh, thank you, Mom! You're the best! But I'll have to think about where I want to go."

"That's fine, honey."

Bulma was excited about the prospect of going anywhere in the world for her birthday. Luckily for her, her birthday fell on a Saturday so they could spend the whole weekend wherever she wanted. Her parents wouldn't allow her to skip school, but they could leave after school ended on Friday and return Sunday night. It would be a short trip, but she didn't mind. At least she wouldn't be stuck in the compound with only a special dinner as celebration for her birthday. Of course she enjoyed the delicacies her mother prepared in her honor, but it wasn't enough. It was the same thing every year. She had to pick somewhere great, somewhere memorable, somewhere she had never been to before.

She poured the batter into a baking pan and put it in the oven. "I'm going to go finish my homework before dinner." Bulma ran out of the kitchen and went upstairs to her bedroom. She sat at her desk and opened her history book to finish reading the chapter. She skimmed over the pages, not really reading the text. Her mind was elsewhere. She was thinking about where she wanted to go for her birthday. She'd been to every continent on the planet and visited many of the major cities. She had seen the greatest beaches and tourist attractions already.

'Maybe Australia. There's got to be plenty of stuff to do there,' she thought. 'I'll have to do some research before we go. Yeah, I like Australia. That's where we'll go.' The pampered heiress couldn't wait for her birthday. It was going to be great. It would be better if she had a flame-haired boy with her, but since he was still absent she would have to enjoy herself without him. She'd managed for two years. She was used to it.

_A/N: As a writer, I strive to write believable characters. Yes, I use characters created by someone else, in this case Akira Toriyama. Regardless, I take those characters and form their lives into a bildungsroman*. I point this out because my hope is that you will take note of the changes Vegeta undergoes over the next chapters. This is where the real meat of the story is. I also say this in the hopes that you will comment about it in your reviews, which will help me greatly as a writer. Thank you._

_*Bildungsroman: n. A novel about the moral and psychological growth of the main character._

_Since time skips are going to happen at unequal intervals, for your benefit I am going to put Vegeta and Bulma's ages at the end of my notes from now on until time stops jumping.  
>Vegeta: 13<br>Bulma: almost 12_


	28. Twisted Pleasures

_Warning: Implied rape._

Twisted Pleasures

Dawn was breaking over the destroyed world as the saiyan prince was blasting away the remains of the last of the native population. Vegeta flared his ki, ready to head to the pods, when he fell to the ground, a wave of insufferable agony washing over him. He felt as though he were being torn limb from limb. He screamed and clawed at the ground until he was rolling in mud. As abruptly as the pain hit it subsided. He panted for breath before rising to his feet and taking off in the sky. 'What was that about?' He shook his head, not wanting to think about it.

"Prince Vegeta?" Nappa's voice came through his scouter. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, Nappa," Vegeta snapped. "Why the hell wouldn't I be?"

"Sorry, sir, it's just that your ki spiked there for a moment as if you were in distress."

Vegeta cursed his luck. He was overcome with extreme pain with no known cause. How was he going to explain that to his comrades without appearing weak? There was no way. "It was nothing. I thought I heard something."

There was a pause. "If you say so, Prince Vegeta."

The young saiyan growled as he cut the transmission. He could have come up with a better lie any other time. He sighed and descended when he saw the pods. Raditz was already waiting and Nappa wasn't too far away. Vegeta landed next to his own pod and pushed the button on his scouter to make sure there were no other ki signals anywhere else on the planet. He dared not miss a single native. He learned the hard way that that was unacceptable. He nodded to himself when he got confirmation that every living being had been wiped out. He heard the pebbles of the riverbank crunch underfoot as Nappa touched down and marched over to his space pod, ready to leave.

"You know," Nappa said casually as he stepped into his pod, "You're lucky, Prince Vegeta. You're going to have most of your growth spurts while you're in your pod in stasis. You won't even feel it."

"Growth spurts?"

Nappa shrugged nonchalantly. "Sure, Prince Vegeta. You're almost fifteen. It's about time for them to be starting. Trust me, they hurt like hell. It feels like your joints are being torn apart and your tendons can't grow fast enough to keep up."

Vegeta quirked an eyebrow. He knew Nappa was explaining what happened to him a few minutes ago without him having to tell him what really happened. He silently thanked the bald oaf for giving him the information. At least now he knew what was happening. Still, was it good to go through his major growth while in stasis? It kept him alive, but he wasn't being provided nourishment during that time and he obviously got no exercise. Saiyans were rarely sent away on missions during that time of their lives. Was there a reason? His brows furrowed as he stepped into his space pod. He would worry about it later. For now, he was going to go back to Frieza's ship and hopefully have time to rest before his next mission. After a dry spell they were being given missions one after another with little to no down time in between.

Vegeta knelt before Frieza for his purge report. Nappa and Raditz knelt behind him. He didn't want to be in the lizard's presence at the moment. Ever since he woke from stasis he had been in constant pain. He was pale, trembling, and sweaty as he fought the agony in his body. Showing weakness could mean his death, but it was difficult not to break down and scream.

Frieza smirked when he saw the saiyan prince. He didn't miss the occasional sharp intake of breath and hiss as the breath was released through clenched teeth. "Report."

Vegeta took a deep breath, hoping to be able to cover his pain. "We completed the purge of planet 2055ZN in two days, Lord Frieza. It is ready for sale."

"Two days? My, you were working fast."

"Yes, Lord." Vegeta winced as he felt a stab of pain shoot through his legs.

"Stand up, monkey." Frieza eyed the young saiyan as he slowly rose to his feet. He heard his joints popping as he moved. He looked scrawny, lanky. But it wasn't because he had lost muscle. His body was essentially stretched thin. "I see you've gotten taller."

Vegeta nodded, not trusting his voice not to crack.

"What was that? I didn't hear you."

"Yes, Lord Fr—" his voice cut out as another surge of pain ripped through him.

Frieza looked at the saiyan prince with feigned concern. "Is something the matter?"

Vegeta bit his lip until he tasted blood, willing the pain to pass quickly. "No."

All was quiet for a moment before a loud smack pierced the silence. Vegeta groaned as he hit the floor and touched his cheek. He swallowed hard as tears stung his eyes. What had he done wrong this time? He pushed himself up to his knees.

"You will address me with respect, monkey."

"Y-yes, Lord Frieza."

"That's better." Frieza's black lips curled in a cruel smile. It failed to reach his eyes. "I will assign you a new mission in a few days. Until then you are to train hard, my little prince."

"Thank you, Lord." Vegeta gasped as he felt like someone was ripping his shoulders from their sockets. He nearly fell to the floor as he momentarily blacked out.

Frieza waved his hand. "You are dismissed."

Vegeta, Nappa, and Raditz rose to their feet and stalked out of the throne room. Nappa tried to assist the prince, but Vegeta slapped him away, refusing to show weakness in front of anyone on the ship. The soldiers there were like vultures. Any sign of weakness and they would attack quickly and mercilessly. Right now he didn't feel like he could put up a decent fight against someone as low-ranking as Raditz. He was too tired and his body was tearing itself apart already. He didn't need anyone's help in that department.

The saiyans reached their quarters and went inside. Vegeta immediately collapsed on his hard cot and curled into the fetal position before pulling his thin, scratchy blanket over himself. He was miserable. Absolutely miserable. He felt like he was dying. He would have welcomed death, actually.

"How long does this last?" he asked, so quietly the others weren't sure he had spoken at all.

Nappa was the first to speak. "It usually passes in five months."

"Five months?" Vegeta moaned. "I've been in stasis for three months! The worst should be over by now."

Nappa rubbed the back of his neck before answering, "That might be why it's still bad. Maybe your body can't grow right in stasis. Sometimes it lasts longer anyway. It's been known to go on for over nine months, but usually that only happens to the tallest saiyans." He didn't want to tell his prince that what he felt now might be the end of the fastest growth period. Vegeta hadn't gained more than 10 inches. He should have grown about twice that much by now. Being held in stasis for that critical time may have irreversibly stunted his growth. If he knew that he would be furious.

"You need lots of exercise and more nourishment than usual during the growth period. It might last longer because of your being in stasis," Raditz added.

"The _last_ thing I want to do right now is move."

"You'll actually feel better if you train," Nappa told his young prince.

"To hell with training. Leave me alone."

The older saiyans sighed and shrugged helplessly. If they were told to leave him, they would obey him. They quietly left the room and headed for the mess hall. It had been a long time since they'd had a decent meal. Over six months, to be exact.

Frieza rapped his fingers on his armrest. He was quite pleased that Vegeta had finally entered his growth period. He knew saiyans suffered like no other time in their lives as their bones extended and their tendons, ligaments, and muscles struggled to keep up with them. He had heard it described as feeling like being drawn and quartered. He licked his upper lip and grinned thinking about Vegeta writhing in the throes of agony unlike any he could ever inflict on him. The worst pain is natural. It was a beautiful thing to observe. Inescapable, inevitable.

"Zarbon."

The man standing at Frieza's right side turned and bowed. "Yes, my Lord?"

"I want you to have a little training session with the monkey prince. When you are finished with him, bring him to my private chambers right away."

Zarbon hid his revulsion behind a carefully schooled mask of boredom as he straightened and started out of the throne room. "As you wish, my Lord."

Now that he was alone, Vegeta didn't fight as hard to hold back his sounds of pain. He screamed with the stronger pains and whimpered and groaned with the duller ones. He tightened into a ball and relaxed when the pain eased momentarily. To his chagrin he realized that he was going to have to ride it out as all saiyans did. He could tell when he first stepped out of his space pod that he had grown while traveling to Frieza's ship. Whereas he had previously only been at tail level to Nappa and Raditz, he now reached their chests. If he was going to be anywhere nearly as tall as his father, he had a long way to go. He had been at least as tall as Nappa. That thought alone made him groan in pain. He didn't know how anyone survived the growth.

Vegeta clutched his shoulders as they ached, but the joints in his hands were in just as much pain and he felt no relief. He tossed and turned on his cot, twisting himself up in his blanket. He held his head in his hands, wishing with every fiber of his being that the pain would go away, that he would become numb to it, anything. He wanted escape. He wanted to be done even if it meant never reaching six feet. He didn't care. All he wanted was to stop hurting.

He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to roar in pain when he heard the whir of the door opening and a cold draft blew into the small, stuffy room. He held his breath while he tried to figure out who had come in. Surely it wasn't Nappa or Raditz? He sent them away only a few minutes ago and they probably went to eat. There was no way they could have finished so soon.

"Get up, monkey. Lord Frieza has ordered me to train you."

Vegeta's blood ran cold when he heard that voice. That deep, smooth, overly perfect voice that made his skin crawl almost as much as the lizard himself. He pushed the blanket down far enough to see the man with glimmering golden eyes and a long emerald braid. His brows furrowed as he threw the blanket off himself.

"Why would _you_ train me? Don't you have more ass-kissing to do?"

"Very funny, monkey," Zarbon drawled. "Now get up before I force you up. We're going to train now. I hope you're ready."

In his confusion Vegeta almost forgot about his pain as he moved his legs off the edge of the cot and slowly, awkwardly rose to his feet. His knees nearly buckled under his weight. He cringed, hoping his adversary hadn't seen his brief moment of vulnerability. Luckily Zarbon had his back to him by then and was moving to the door to lead the way to the training facilities.

It was more difficult to keep up with Zarbon than Vegeta was willing to admit, even if only to himself. He snarled as he struggled to keep his body moving while the tall man in front of him strode with graceful poise. The calm ease with which Zarbon held himself was in stark contrast to Vegeta's rigid tension. The prince, normally so regal, was fighting the urge to collapse and roll around screaming.

Zarbon stopped next to the door to the training rooms and punched in the entrance code. The door opened with a whoosh and Zarbon went inside with Vegeta right on his heels. Vegeta stopped a few steps before Zarbon whirled around with his cape billowing over his shoulder, lowering himself to his fighting stance that was notably more offensive than defensive. Vegeta resented his cockiness at the outset.

Vegeta uneasily took his own stance, now flawed because of his growth. He felt awkward and vulnerable. He shifted his feet to compensate his new height, but he knew he would have to spend a considerable amount of time reworking his entire form. Not that it was worth the trouble. He might as well wait until his entire growth was finished. Otherwise he would be constantly changing it for an indefinite period of time.

"Defend yourself, monkey." Zarbon shot forward, instantly disappearing from sight. He appeared behind Vegeta and back kicked the saiyan across the room.

Vegeta caught himself before he hit the wall, but he was again put on the defensive when a ki blast rocketed toward him from above. He leaped out of the way, but the explosion made him lose his balance and he crashed to the floor. Before he could get up another blast of ki hit him square on his back. He coughed violently as he rolled onto his burned back, wincing in pain.

Seeing his opponent defenseless, Zarbon landed on Vegeta's chest and started pummeling his face until his nose was broken and his left eye was swollen shut. Through it all Vegeta tried to free himself, but he couldn't get Zarbon's enormous weight off his chest. He thought his ribs were cracking, but that might have just been more growth pains. It was hard to differentiate between the two.

Vegeta gasped for breath when Zarbon moved off him and kicked him hard in his side. That time there was no question about his ribs being broken. He flew a few yards and landed on the floor hard. He raised himself to his hands and knees, but was knocked down again when Zarbon smashed his elbow down on his back.

"Is that the best you can do, monkey?"

The saiyan hacked up a glob of bloody phlegm and spat it on the floor. "No. It's not."

He forced himself to his feet and turned to face Zarbon who had his arms crossed and a smug smirk spread across his thin lips. Vegeta was filled with rage seeing his opponent so confident. His power grew as he fed on his anger. He clenched his hands into fists and screamed until a blazing aura flared up around him. He screamed again in frustration as another wave of pain tore through his body.

"Let's go."

Zarbon's arms lowered when he saw Vegeta's power. His level was nowhere near what it had been before his memories were taken away, but it was still high. More than he'd bargained for, at the very least. He raised his power as he took his stance.

"You got it, monkey."

Both fighters phased out of sight and there were no signs of their fight aside from shockwaves originating from all over the room as they exchanged blows. After what may have been seconds or minutes, Zarbon crashed to the floor. Vegeta drove his feet into the green warrior's solar plexus before again disappearing. Zarbon threw himself out of the way of a ball of ki and then found himself running from a relentless onslaught of ki attacks. He couldn't so much as retaliate as no two ki balls came from the same place. He had no idea where Vegeta was at any given moment.

"Enough of this!" Zarbon crossed his arms in front of his body to block a barrage of small ki blasts. Each one made him slide a few inches across the metal floor. Thoroughly enraged, Zarbon phased out of sight again.

Vegeta paused to locate his opponent, a pause just long enough for Zarbon to find him and kick him in the small of his back. Vegeta groaned in pain when he slammed into the opposite wall. He couldn't feel his legs or tail.

'Well at least they can't hurt then,' he thought sardonically. His thoughts were interrupted when he felt Zarbon grab his arm and started swinging him around and around until he was spinning so fast the room was a blur. Then he let go, sending Vegeta flying into the wall again. He was so dazed he couldn't even fight Zarbon when he picked him up and carried him out of the training room. The last thing he saw before he fell unconscious was a door opening to reveal the lizard grinning at him with something akin to lust burning in his red eyes.

…

Bulma blocked a kick with her forearm from her sparring partner at the dojo and used his momentum to push him back, throwing him off balance long enough to drop into a sweep kick, flooring her opponent. It gave her a rush every time she saw her sparring partners fall down. It gave her a sense of power that she lacked in so many other situations in her life. She cracked her knuckles as her opponent stood up and dusted himself off. He gave her a sullen glare.

"You always win, Blue."

The blue-haired girl smiled smugly and rested her hands on her hips. She had given up trying to get her classmates to stop calling her by that nickname. It grew on her anyway. "Of course I do, Hercule, I was taught by the best."

"I have the same sensei as you."

Bulma flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Yeah, but I had a different sensei before I came here. He was a real expert. He knew martial arts the sensei here have never seen before. That's why I can beat everyone. I learned techniques you haven't learned how to defend against."

Hercule crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the floor. He was a couple years younger than her, skinny with a dark complexion, and he had deep blue eyes and curly hair that was almost black. Bulma thought he was a pretty good student. Maybe one of the best at the dojo, at least in her level. But he was a sore loser. "What could you have learned that we haven't? They teach us mixed martial arts."

"I don't know what it's called, actually." Bulma grinned and traced shapes with her toe. It was kind of embarrassing, really, knowing some of the best martial arts ever and not even knowing what to call it. Vegeta had never given it a name. All he ever told her was that it was a style no one else knew. She was finding that to be more true than she ever thought. Sometimes she wondered if he came up with it all himself. That would be insane, though. He was barely older than her, so how could he have mastered martial arts so well he could invent a style all his own? He must have learned it wherever he came from, but she still didn't know where that was.

Bulma had asked all of her sensei about ki manipulation, but none of them knew what she was talking about. She did research on it, and found some references to it in religious texts, but none of them were terribly helpful. There was even some mention of it in old books about martial arts, but she never found anything informative about how to use ki like Vegeta did. The more research she did the more she was convinced it wasn't real. At the same time, though, her memories of Vegeta demanded she reconsider her intuitive conclusion. It _had_ to be real. There was simply no other explanation for what she had seen her flame-haired houseguest do. People didn't suddenly become engulfed in flames that didn't burn them. People didn't just shoot balls of light from their hands that caused real physical damage to whatever it hit.

At least, _normal_ people didn't. But then, Vegeta wasn't a normal person, was he? She knew that from the moment she first laid eyes on him. There was something different about him. Almost alien.

She snorted and shook her head. Vegeta wasn't an alien. Sure, he had a tail, weird hair, he was crazy strong and fast, he knew how to manipulate ki, he spoke a strange language, his intelligence could easily rival her own, and he seemed unfamiliar with her culture, but that didn't make him an alien. She refused to believe that. There was just no way. She did not live with a real, live alien for almost six months and not know it. He was from another part of the world, pure and simple.

Bulma was gathering her things to leave the dojo when her sensei approached her. She bowed to him and waited for him to speak.

"Miss Brief, I have spoken with the other sensei and we have decided that you have met all the requirements for the advanced classes. We were wondering if you would like to consider moving to the class that meets on Tuesday and Thursday?"

Her eyes widened. "Me? In the advanced class? You really think I'm ready for that?"

Her sensei gestured with his hand toward the floor where the students sparred earlier. "You easily overcome your opponent no matter who you are matched against. There is no challenge here for you."

Bulma laughed nervously and rubbed the back of her neck. "Well, yeah. But does that mean I'm ready to go up against the advanced students?"

"We believe you are more than ready."

"I guess so."

"Please consider this. You do not have to reach a decision right now."

"Thank you, Sensei." Bulma bowed again as he turned and walked away. She put her jacket on and grabbed her backpack. Her brows furrowed as she thought about her sensei's offer. Moving up to the advanced class? She had been taking martial arts lessons for three years. Maybe she wasn't progressing that rapidly, but she felt like she was being rushed through. She still didn't believe she had much of an affinity for fighting. More than anything it was a hobby she borrowed from Vegeta for the sake of having some interest in common with him. She walked out of the dojo and started toward Capsule Corporation, still deep in thought.

'This is supposed to be the best dojo in the area. If that's true, then that might explain how I'm ready for the advanced class now when I don't feel like I've made much progress at all. It doesn't even seem like I'm trying that hard. I do train a lot at home, but that's only in my spare time. Did I really learn that much from Vegeta? He hardly even helped me. He showed me what to do and left me to it.' Bulma shrugged. 'It must have been effective, I guess.'

The most exciting part about moving up a level would be facing new opponents who had already learned so much more than her. They would give her the challenge she was craving. She would be able to learn from them and she could really test her abilities. Her contemplative frown turned up into a small smile. She wasn't particularly looking forward to receiving a good beat-down, but soon enough she would be the one taking out her sparring partners. She was still nowhere near Vegeta's level, and maybe she never would be, but that didn't bother her too much. Her goal was to be the best she could be, not necessarily the best overall.

As Bulma made the long walk home she heard the dead leaves crunching under her feet. Winter would come soon. For some reason the sound of dead leaves always made her think of Vegeta. Her smile turned down again as her thoughts turned to him. Over three years. Almost four, actually, since he had left. The ache in her heart wasn't so noticeable anymore. In a way she was grateful, but at the same time she was afraid that if losing him stopped hurting, it was a sign she stopped caring about him and no longer wanted him back. That made her feel like a horrible friend. How could she turn her back on him because he left to do what he had to do? He said he would be back so he _would_ be back. She couldn't give up on him. But after so long, he wasn't at the forefront of her mind very much. Sometimes she would go for an entire day or even longer without thinking about him once. How could she betray him like that? She refused to forget about him. He hadn't forgotten her. Had he?

The young heiress walked into the Capsule Corporation compound and headed for the kitchen for a light snack to hold her over until dinner. She found her mother putting pieces of meat and vegetables on skewers. She went to the refrigerator and searched through its contents until she found a cup of yogurt and some strawberries. Her favorite.

"Hello, Bulma," Mrs. Brief greeted her daughter. "How was your day?"

Bulma perched herself on the counter and bit into one of the succulent strawberries. She closed her eyes and focused on the sensation of the explosion of sweet tartness on her tongue. "It was good. School was fine. My sensei wants me to join the advanced class at the dojo. I haven't decided if I want to do that yet."

"Oh, my, the advanced class? That's wonderful, dear."

"I guess so. Most students take, like, years to move from one class to the next though. I feel like I might miss out on something if I move through it too fast, you know?" Bulma opened her yogurt and dipped one of her strawberries in it.

Mrs. Brief nodded as she punctured a piece of beef with a skewer. "I understand, honey. But if your sensei thinks you're ready, I'm sure you are. Besides, it _has _been years. Three, if I remember correctly. But if you don't want to move on yet that's fine. It's your choice."

"I know. I'll think about it. It's not like I'm being rushed into my decision."

"Do you have homework tonight?"

"Yeah, a little. I'll get it done before dinner." Bulma sighed and finished her last strawberry. She really wouldn't mind having a dozen more, but she didn't want to ruin her appetite.

"Alright, honey. It'll be ready in about half an hour."

"Ok. I'll be down for dinner." Bulma grabbed her backpack, which she had dropped on the floor by the counter, and left the kitchen to go to her bedroom to work on her homework. It wasn't much since she got most of it done in class. That was another sign she was forgetting about Vegeta. Thoughts of him weren't distracting her from school anymore.

Bulma sat down at her desk and spread her notebook, textbook, and worksheets out in front of her. She leaned back in her seat and rapped her fingers against her desk. "I wonder where he's at right now. I hope that he's giving the jerk who abused him hell. Then maybe he can come home. I do miss him. It's been way too long since he left." She pushed thoughts of Vegeta aside and started reading the short story for her literature class. It was an interesting story for a change, about a prince who lost his kingdom after it was taken over by a king from another land. The prince had to lead the remnants of his father's army to overthrow the new king and free his kingdom. It was nothing more than a fairy tale, but Bulma liked it anyway.

…

Vegeta's mind was cloudy as he slipped in and out of consciousness. All he was aware of for a time was the soothing warm fluid surrounding his body and the fading pain of injuries. The pain in his joints, unfortunately, remained. Hearing someone talking close by with a muffled voice, he cracked his eyes open to see who was there. Even without the dark blue liquid medium he was looking through, his vision was fuzzy. He was tempted to close his eyes again and get more rest. His normally insatiable curiosity was dormant. He didn't care who was on the other side of the glass barrier.

Nappa grabbed the doctor by his collar and lifted him off the floor. "What the hell happened to him?"

The doctor kicked his feet in panic. "Please, let me go! I don't know what happened! Zarbon brought him in an hour ago!"

The bald saiyan snarled and threw the doctor on the floor. All he knew was Vegeta was in the rejuvenation chamber, barely alive, when he and Raditz returned to their quarters after eating and training. He was livid. Though he wouldn't have been able to stop whoever did this to his prince, he was furious that he hadn't been there to try.

Raditz ignored the older saiyan as he went into a rage and went over to the tank where Vegeta's damaged body was suspended in the healing fluid. He put his hands on the glass, wanting to reach out to his young prince. He wished he could take his place. Vegeta had done nothing to deserve this and he was already suffering from the growth pains.

_"Who put you in this condition? What happened?"_

The long-haired saiyan reeled back from the tank when choppy images flashed through his mind. He recognized them as Vegeta's memories. Apparently he heard and answered his questions, if only subconsciously.

_Zarbon grinned as he raised his fists and pounded his face. He could see little more than a blur of motion as each fist pulled back and snapped forward again until they were stained with blood. Half of his vision cut out._

_ The wall was approaching, fast. The world turned around until the lights in the ceiling blinded him. Everything faded to black._

_ The metal door slid open. Frieza stood on the other side. His beady red eyes moved up and down, taking in the sight before him. His purple tongue glided over his bottom lip._

_ He saw an unfamiliar ceiling. Confused, he turned his head to the left and the right, but he didn't recognize his surroundings right away. He could tell he was on a bed. A very large, comfortable bed. His muscles tensed._

_ "Ah, my pet monkey is finally awake."_

_ Where did that voice come from? He looked down and saw Frieza crawling onto the foot of the bed. He wasn't wearing his armor. His pale pink skin make his stomach turn._

_ 'No, not again! Please, not this!'_

_ Frieza climbed on top of him and it was only then, when he felt his icy fingers sliding across his skin, that he realized he wasn't wearing anything either. He bucked, trying to escape the lizard, but he was held down. He looked up and saw his wrists encircled with rings of ki chaining him to the bed._

_'No! No, please no! No!'_

Raditz stood there, bewildered. Was that real? He felt horror and revulsion. But more than that he was angry. He was more furious than he had ever been before in his life. His fists clenched so tightly he drew blood from the palms of his hands. Vegeta's thoughts were panicked, and rightly so, but he was thinking 'not again.' How many times had this happened before? When had it happened? How had he and Nappa not found out about it? His mind raced with unanswered questions.

"Nappa," he said, deadpan. "Frieza did this."

The other saiyan stopped in his tirade and turned to Raditz. "Frieza? But why? How do you know?"

"I know because Prince Vegeta showed me his memories." He sighed and raked his hand through his long mane. "As to why, I don't know."

Nappa stalked over to the rejuvenation chamber. "What, exactly, did he do?"

Raditz shook his head. "I don't know if the prince would want me to say. Ask him for yourself."

Normally Nappa would have demanded the low-class saiyan divulge his information, but he understood the need to keep certain confidentialities. If Vegeta was unconscious when he shared his memories, it may not have been intentional. If that were the case, it would be best not to pry. Nappa rested his forehead on the glass and reached his mind out to Vegeta, but he was closed off.

Vegeta felt Nappa trying to open their mental link, but he wouldn't let him. He had accidentally shown Raditz more than he meant to. He wasn't going to make the same mistake with his bodyguard. Knowing that hothead, he would lose control and get himself killed trying to confront the lizard. No, he would keep this incident under wraps just as he had done every other time. He was the victim, it was his burden. He would bear it alone, letting it fuel his rage, hatred, and power. He would have his revenge for everything Frieza had ever done to him.

All Nappa could get from Vegeta was vague, unbound feelings of fury and shame. He growled with frustration and beat his fists against the glass. "He won't let me in."

Raditz frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't push him. Maybe he'll let you know later. Right now he probably wants to rest."

Grumbling to himself, Nappa nodded his agreement and found a vacant examination table to sit on and wait for Vegeta to recover. Raditz walked over and leaned against it.

"That freak is only making him stronger," Nappa hissed. "Then one day he'll see what he's done to Prince Vegeta, and he'll pay for it."

The third-class saiyan's eyes shifted from Nappa to the young saiyan in the rejuvenation chamber. He looked weak and helpless. He felt his terror in his memory. That terror would turn into hatred that would poison him until he found the cure: the death of Frieza. As horrendous as the situation was, it rekindled his fading hope that Vegeta would destroy the lizard. Instead of breaking him, Frieza was making his greatest weapon that was bound to turn on him.

Frieza had signed his own death warrant.

_A/N: So I've had a couple reviews mention the lack of voice I have in my stories. Hrm, I'm not exactly sure how to improve that. There is the slight problem with my 'voice' being very similar to both Vegeta and Bulma, and I do strongly believe in what I write. Yes, my personal values are definitely woven into my stories. Heh. Regardless, any tips? I'm always looking to improve my work. Believe it or not, I still think I'm not a very good writer (at least not when it comes to fiction)._

_Is the particular torture in this chapter something you believe would occur, or am I exaggerating Vegeta's torment? Personally, I think it's plausible, obviously, I wrote it..._

_Thank you for all the reviews, especially the super long ones and those from you "silent readers" who don't normally review. I'm glad my story is worth the hassle. :)_

_For an update on my writing, I've been working on chapter 39 today and I have outlines made through chapter 43. I haven't really decided how long this story is going to be. As long as _Rediscovering Honor_? I'm not sure. I have finally come up with the super awesome plot twist not a single one of my readers would ever predict (go on, try to guess) for after they reunite and crazy stuff goes down. I can't wait to write it. As far as my other stories are concerned, namely, _Guardian of Vegetasei_, I'm having severe writer's block and I'm much more excited about finishing this story first. I won't abandon them, I promise!_

_Next few chapters: I'm sorry to my readers who get bored with chapters where Vegeta and Bulma aren't together, but as in my other freaking epic long story (R.H.), the chapters of separation are the most important and will not be rushed through. Bulma's side not only shows how she grows/changes in a way different from canon, but also it helps break up the angsty heavy stuff on Vegeta's side. There is a method to my madness. Well, this note has grown far too long and I doubt many of you have read all the way through it anyway, so I'll end it there. Send your questions, comments, and concerns through a review and I'll be happy to address them!_

_Vegeta: 15  
><em>_Bulma: 13_


	29. Discovery

Discovery

Bulma stormed through the Capsule Corporation compound with no particular destination in mind. She was frustrated with her parents, school, and the whole world. She was moodier more than usual now that she was a teenager. Right now she was upset that her father suggested she take summer classes at the local community college to get a head-start on her next level of education. She still had a whole year of high school left. She couldn't understand why he would want her to give up her whole summer to do more boring schoolwork when she would much rather spend that time relaxing – or having an adventure. She'd gotten restless the past few years. She was tired of West City and her mundane life of luxury. She wanted to get out and see the world without her parents holding her hands. She was practically a grown woman. At fifteen years of age, she knew all there was to know and she wanted to prove it.

Seeing her mother coming toward her from the other end of the hall, Bulma steered left and took the stairs to the basement of the compound. She rarely went down there. Her nose wrinkled at the musty scent mixed with mothballs, oil, and rusting metal. She flipped the light switch on her way down the stairs and looked around at the abandoned inventions, broken robots, stained carpet, and the dirty old couch with ugly plaid upholstery and sagging frame. She was sure if she sat in it she would sink so far down she would never be able to pull herself free. Shrugging, she sat down with her legs folded under her and crossed her arms over her chest.

'This isn't fair! I shouldn't have to go to college in the first place! It's not like I wouldn't be able to run the company with what I already know. I've already designed some of the inventions that brought in a huge portion of the annual income." She blew a loose strand of hair out of her face. It floated back down, forcing her to reach up and push it behind her ear. "I don't want to start college classes so early anyway. I wanted to take a couple years off from school."

If she were eighteen she would be able to make her own decisions. But since she was still a minor she was under the authority of her parents. Her mother was on the fence about her starting college so soon, but Bulma knew she would side with her father once push came to shove. She was going to be forced to give up her summer to take general education courses. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands.

"Am I always going to be at least two years younger than everyone else I'm in school with? I want to be with someone my age. Maybe _then_ I would be able to find a boyfriend." She snorted and rolled her eyes. She knew boys were afraid of her. They could no longer accuse her of being a little girl. No one bothered calling her ugly anymore. She was a very attractive girl, and she knew it. Puberty was one of the best things that ever happened to her. Still, no boys dared ask her on a date even if they were interested because she was so much younger, she was a million times smarter, a bit _too_ beautiful, rich, and famous. Add all that to her moodiness, stubbornness, and overbearing personality and she was destined to be single for life. She needed a man who could stand up to her and be the leader instead of letting her bull him over all the time. The likelihood of finding such a man was practically nonexistent.

Bulma shifted her position and hugged her knees to her chest. She was tired of always feeling so angry with everything all the time. She just wanted to be happy for a change. There had to be something in the world that would lighten her mood. Inventing new devices used to help. Fighting used to be enough to make her feel better. She had gone through a stage where all she wanted to do was become an artist, but she found her talent was not in paint, charcoal, or clay. She was determined she needed a new hobby, something that would fill the void in her life. If not that, then maybe some material item that would bring her endless enjoyment. What did she love enough that she could never get tired of it though? Her interests were fickle. One day she could be obsessive about a new gadget and the next she couldn't care less if it was run over by a train and carried into the mountains by a rabies-infested pterodactyl.

She shook her head. It didn't matter anyway. There was no way she was ever going to find something that would truly make her happy. If there were anything out there that could, she would have it already. She was Bulma Brief. She was the richest teenager in the whole world. If what she wanted didn't already exist, she could create it. It was that simple. No, nothing material was ever going to satisfy her. She sighed.

Deciding not to think about her unhappiness anymore, Bulma turned her attention to the odd assortment of piles of junk heaped here and there. It was more like a mechanical graveyard than a basement. She wondered how many of her father's old pet projects were here, abandoned, because he couldn't get them to work or deemed them useless endeavors. She stood up and walked over to the nearest mass of fried motherboards and twisted metal and started digging through it, unconcerned with the possibility of cutting herself on some rusty screw, contracting tetanus, and dying.

"What's this?" she asked as she grabbed a metal rod and tugged on it with all her strength to get it to budge. It was wedged in deeper than she thought. Finally, she got it to move, and in doing so she lost her balance and tumbled over backwards. "Ouch! Stupid thing!"

She tossed aside the metal rod, finding it to be less than interesting now that it led to her seat on the floor, and scowled at the pile of mechanical parts. Her eyes shifted to the floor when she saw something small and round rolling away from the pile, apparently having been knocked away when she moved the metal rod. It was some sort of ball, made of what appeared to be bright orange glass. There were two red stars in the middle. Bulma stood up and patted the dust off her clothes before picking up the strange sphere.

"This is weird. What's it doing in this pile of crap?" She quirked an eyebrow as she rolled the ball around in her hands. She didn't mind that she was getting a thick layer of dust on her hands from touching it. Now curious, Bulma forgot her argument with her father and ran upstairs to find him and ask what the orange ball was for. It didn't look like it belonged being mixed in with a bunch of old mechanical parts. She hurried to his lab to find him and ask where it came from.

"Dad!" she called as she barged in the laboratory, disregarding all the safety precautions she learned from an early age.

Startled, Dr. Brief jumped and banged his head on the hood of the hovercar he was tinkering around in. He rubbed his head and turned around to see his blue-haired daughter racing toward him. "Yes, dear, what is it?"

Bulma held out the ball with two stars. "What's this? I found it in the basement."

Dr. Brief took the ball from her and readjusted his glasses to get a better look at it. Like his daughter, he rolled it around in his hands, carefully examining it. "Ah, yes, this old thing. I believe I bought it at a garage sale or some such thing. I can't remember why. Something about a legend going along with it."

"A legend?" Bulma scoffed. "Legends are just stories."

"You might think so," her father countered, "But I believe there is some degree of truth behind every legend. I can't remember what this thing is supposed to do right off the top of my head. You would have to do some research to find out. Grating a wish, I believe."

Bulma took the orange ball from him and tossed it back and forth in her hands. "A wish?"

Dr. Brief nodded and picked out a wrench from his toolbox. "If I remember correctly. I think this is called a dragon ball. That's all I know about it though."

"A dragon ball? I've never heard of it." Bulma shrugged and turned to leave. "Can I keep it?"

"If you'd like it, dear. I don't need it for anything."

"Thanks, Dad."

Bulma left the laboratory and headed for the library to do a little research. If this dragon ball thing was capable of granting a wish, she wanted to figure out how to make it work. A wish was exactly what she needed. "I wonder why it has two stars? Maybe there's more than one of them. I don't know why it matters. It's a legend. Legends aren't real… right?"

She closed the doors to the library behind her and leaned against them. Where was she supposed to start hunting for a legend she had never even heard of before? She held the dragon ball up and inspected it again. 'If it's real, maybe it's been used to make wishes before.' Nodding to herself, Bulma went to the area of the library where all the old history books were. It included books of history that was obscure, little-known, questionable, or hidden from the public. If any legends were true, information about them was likely to be in one of these books, even if it was mentioned in passing in one measly sentence of the whole collection.

"This looks like a good place to start." Bulma pulled a thick book off the shelf titled _Mystical History of the World_. The binding was worn, the pages were yellowed, and it had a funny smell unique to ancient books. "This is bound to have something about legends, real or not."

The teenage genius started flipping through the first pages of the book, disappointed to find there were no chapters and thus no table of contents. Turning to the back of the book, she found no index or glossary of terms. 'Great, I'll have to read the whole thing. As if I have time for that.' She considered returning the book to its shelf and picking a different one, but she doubted any would be more useful in learning about magic and legends and wish-granting dragon balls than the one she had. She flipped through the book a few times. She sneezed as dust flew out of the pages.

Bulma carried the book to one of the brown leather chairs in the library and sat down. The leather groaned as she wiggled to find a comfortable reading position. She set the book on the armrest and opened it to the first page and began reading.

_The beginning of the history of the modern world begins in Age 461 when an evil demon named King Piccolo came into being. This terrible demon had offspring who rampaged cities across the Earth, killing hundreds of thousands of people wherever they went. It was King Piccolo's goal to become the ruler of the world._

"A demon killed most of the human population?" Bulma's skepticism nearly made her stop reading after the first short paragraph, but her curiosity was greater and so she proceeded on to learn more about the demon King Piccolo and his reign of terror. In school she had always learned that the population of Earth was nearly wiped out when some kind of mutated virus spread in the worst epidemic in all of human history. Scientific-minded as she was, she was more inclined to believe that explanation than the one the book offered.

Bulma spent the next few hours reading through the book. It was much more interesting than she originally gave it credit for, but she still didn't believe half of the tales it told. When she was over halfway through the book and still hadn't run across any mention of the dragon balls, she was growing frustrated. Interesting or not, she wanted to learn about that legend, not how the human race repopulated the planet after King Piccolo mysteriously disappeared, possibly at the hands of a great martial arts master named Mutaito.

'Hm, Mutaito, never heard of him. Maybe I'll have to look him up later.' Bulma dog-eared the page she was on and closed the book. She stood up and stretched her arms over her head with a deep yawn. It was getting late and she needed to head to bed if she hoped to get up on time to make it to school without another tardy. She grabbed the book and the two star dragon ball and left the library to go to her bedroom.

The blue-haired teenager set her items on her nightstand, pulled her shirt and jeans off, and changed into a long-sleeved pink nightshirt. She went into her bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face and took her hair out of the ponytail she had it in and brushed it out. She looked herself over in her mirror when she was done, carefully scrutinizing her teeth, her hair, and her skin to make sure there were no blemishes. She gave herself a sparkling smile and walked out of her bathroom and sat down on the edge of her bed.

She had let herself become distracted by the dragon ball and the weird history book. She had more important matters to think about. There _had_ to be a way to convince her father that she wouldn't take college courses over the summer. She still had a few months to worry about that, but it was almost time for summer class sign-ups. 'Maybe if I figure out this wish thing I can wish that I never have to finish high school or go to college,' she mused. 'Nah, that won't make me happy in the long run. Maybe a lifetime supply of strawberries. I love strawberries. That would be a good wish. Then even when they're not in season I would still have them all the time and they would be perfectly ripe.'

Deciding that was a good enough wish to go to sleep on, Bulma pulled back the covers and slid into bed. She turned the lamp on her nightstand off and rolled onto her side. She figured she would finish reading the book the next day, and if that didn't have anything useful she would go back to the library and find something else to read. She was determined to find out what the legend was. Her father said there was truth behind every legend. Well, was there truth behind the wish-granting magical orbs? The dragon ball seemed mystical enough. Something about it just seemed supernatural in its simplicity. She yawned and closed her eyes. There would be plenty of time to think about it in the morning.

…

Vegeta opened his eyes and blinked a few times until he adjusted to the dim light in his space pod. Straight ahead he could see the point of light that was his next destination. It was a large planet, far from its star, most likely a freezing cold ice planet with few inhabitants. But the few that were there were renowned for their strength. They would have to be strong to survive in such an uninhabitable environment. Vegeta wasn't thrilled about this particular mission. Even if the people there were strong, Frieza could have sent someone who was more accustomed to the extreme cold. But Vegeta wasn't going to argue about being sent on a mission. It had been a few months since his last assignment and he was craving battle. Spars with Nappa and Raditz weren't enough for him anymore. They were weak in comparison. While his strength continued multiplying with each beating he received from Frieza, they stayed at the same pitiful level with only minor incremental increasesafter purge missions and training sessions.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. After sitting still for seven months he was in need of a new position. He desperately needed to stretch out. He couldn't wait for landfall so he could get out of the tiny space pod and move around. He yawned and rubbed his eyes as he waited to reach the planet that was growing by the second. Only another minute or so…

"Landfall in one minute. Prepare for impact." Vegeta rolled his eyes at the computerized voice and crossed his arms over his chest. Prepare for impact? Whatever.

"Now entering the planet's atmosphere." The saiyan felt the retrorockets fire up and slow the descent, giving him the familiar lurching feeling as the planet's gravity took hold of his space pod and pulled it down. His fingers rapped impatiently against his biceps. Landing seemed to take forever. Out the porthole he could see a cloud cover, then everything was a misty gray, and then he saw the pure white ground growing closer and closer. He relaxed every muscle in his body right before his pod slammed into the ground, kicking up feet of snow and dust to form a sizable crater. He heard two more pods hit the ground nearby.

Vegeta opened the hatch and stepped out of his space pod. He was almost knocked over by the gust of wind that instantly chilled him to the bone. He muttered to himself in several languages as he rubbed his arms to keep warm and trudged through the snow to the top of his crater. His feet were wet from the melted snow around his pod. That was just great. Now he was going to get hypothermia. It took a lot to get a saiyan cold enough to experience any adverse effects, but this planet was definitely cold enough. He shivered and tightened his tail around his waist in a feeble attempt to get warmer.

'This planet is stupid. Why the hell would Frieza want it? Maybe he'll keep it as his new home planet. That bastard likes the cold.' Vegeta shook the snow that had been accumulating out of his feathery hair and waited for the other saiyans to emerge from their space pods. He thought they were purposely taking their time. Probably they weren't very eager to get out of the warmth of their pods and face the eternal blizzard that froze the planet.

'Come on you fools!' Vegeta hunched his shoulders, but, remembering that would only make him colder in the long run, forced his muscles to relax to maximize blood circulation.

The hatches of the space pods opened simultaneously and the two large saiyans crawled out of them. Vegeta quirked an eyebrow when he saw them wearing full body suits similar to his own, except they were black. That must have been what took them so long. They were changing into armor more suitable for the environment. At least they thought ahead for a change. Not that the body suits were enough to keep them warm. He was freezing.

"Prince Vegeta," Nappa said, kneeling down in the deep snow. Beside him Raditz knelt as well. "What are your orders?"

Vegeta sighed and reluctantly reached up to push the button on his scouter. He would rather keep his arm crossed over his chest with his hand buried in his armpit where it was warm. His scouter came to life and numbers started scrawling across the display screen. Several of the power level readings were close by, some moving closer at high velocities. Apparently they had been detected and some warriors were on the way to eliminate any hostile visitors. Vegeta smirked. Only on the planet for a few minutes and he was already going to get a good fight. While he was looking forward to a challenge, he was even more excited about some exercise that would warm him up.

The prince turned back to his loyal subjects and grunted his permission for them to rise. They stood up and brushed the snow off their knees. "There are seven warriors headed straight for us. We will wait for them. Nappa, you will take the first two to arrive. I will take the next three. Raditz, wait for the last two."

"Yes, sir," Nappa and Raditz mumbled.

It seemed like a lifetime before the first warrior appeared on the horizon, though in reality it was only a few minutes after Vegeta gave his orders. As he came closer the saiyans were able to see him better; he was tall, much taller than Nappa, covered in thick, shaggy fur as white as the snow, he had long, jagged teeth that protruded from his wide mouth, and pale blue eyes that seemed to glow. His fingers and toes each had a long, black claw that curved like a hook, shaping them into deadly weapons.

One corner of Vegeta's lip turned down when he saw the first one land a few yards away from them. "What is this? A fucking abominable snowman?"

"Sure is ugly, whatever it is," Nappa said as a smirk curled his lips.

"Maybe we can skin it and use its hide to keep us warm for the rest of this mission," Raditz laughed. So it was big, furry, and had claws, so what? The saiyans had seen more formidable adversaries in their time. They had seen creatures that were bigger, furrier, and had longer claws and worse-looking teeth. Besides, this thing's power level was only 1600 on their scouters. It would be no sweat defeating it.

The creature growled and crouched down in a defensive stance. "Why have you come here?" it yelled in its native language.

Vegeta lifted his chin proudly. "We're here to destroy your race, you disgusting fur-ball."

"We'll see about that!"

"Yes, I suppose we will." Vegeta cocked his head to the side. "Nappa."

The bald saiyan stepped forward and cracked his knuckles. He was ready for a good fight. It had been a long time since he'd gone up against someone who didn't seriously outclass him. Namely, his prince. "So, the puppy wants to play rough, eh?"

"Kill him fast, Nappa. I don't want to spend any more time on this ice planet than I have to." Vegeta's eyes shifted to the sky where another one of the creatures was flying toward them. "We have company. Hurry and get this over with."

Nappa frowned before lowering himself into his fighting stance across from the first creature. He liked to draw his fights out as much as possible, using each battle as a way to learn new techniques and test his abilities to the fullest. But he agreed with his prince. He hated the cold as much as any saiyan and wanted to leave the planet they were on as soon as possible and go somewhere warm, even if it was Frieza's spaceship.

He shot forward and ducked under a clawed hand, driving his heel into the creature's gut and knocking him over effortlessly. While it thrashed around in the snow to regain its footing, Nappa flew high above him and started gathering energy in the palm of his right hand. He twisted around like a baseball pitcher before letting his ki ball fly. "Here you go!"

It was a direct hit. When light of the explosion faded, there was nothing to see but a hole in the snow with black mud and water at the bottom. Nappa turned his head to face the next creature that had almost reached them at that point. He grinned and gathered smaller orbs of ki in both hands and hurled them at the creature before it had time to react. The first blast of ki knocked it off course and the second sent it hurtling to the ground. Nappa took off after it and shot a powerful beam of ki at it before it could move out of the way.

"Well that was no fun at all," Nappa grumbled as he lowered himself to the ground to stand between Raditz and Vegeta.

"We're not here for fun," Vegeta reminded him.

"You think that's the best this planet's got?" Nappa asked.

Vegeta shrugged and levitated off the ground when two more creatures came into view not too far away. "If it is it only means we'll be done here sooner."

The two older saiyans watched as Vegeta phased out of sight and reappeared behind the two approaching warriors. He slammed his elbows down on their necks, sending them crashing into the ground below. Vegeta cupped his hands at his side and started gathering bright violet ki.

"Wow, he's really not messing around," Raditz commented. He glanced back down at the creatures lying on the ground, probably unconscious. He almost pitied them. Almost.

Nappa grunted. "He never does."

"He used to."

"It doesn't matter. What matters is that he gets stronger."

"He's lost his love of fighting. He's a saiyan. He should live for battle."

They watched as the violet beam of ki fell to the ground and exploded on impact, incinerating the bodies of the two warriors. Nappa and Raditz covered their eyes with their arms to protect themselves from the flying debris and blinding flash of light.

"To him no one is worth fighting anymore. He's too strong for these peons."

"He could still play with them before killing them off."

Nappa shrugged one shoulder. He saw the same thing Raditz did. Vegeta used to enjoy the purge missions, at least to a degree. He never really liked killing the civilians. There was no honor in that, and Vegeta always tried desperately to hold on to his saiyan honor. But the warriors, he loved fighting them. Battles gave him the rush of adrenaline every saiyan craved. He was addicted to meeting new challenges. Not anymore, though. Now all he cared about was getting the missions over with as soon as possible. They rarely took longer than a week where it used to sometimes take a whole month. It wasn't all because he was so much stronger. It was because he refused to take the time to battle the warriors on each planet. He killed them off fast, never bothering to learn from them.

Vegeta spotted the next warrior and sent a ki blast its way. He lowered himself to the ground and crossed his arms over his chest. "The next two are yours, Raditz."

"Yes, sir."

While Raditz was preparing for his fights, Vegeta activated his scouter to locate the rest of the life forms on the planet. He knew there wouldn't be many to find, but he wasn't willing to miss a single one. The scouter indicated a small group with low power levels a few hundred miles south of where they were. There was another cluster several miles to the west. A few more were scattered across the planet by themselves. The scouter did not find any other power signatures. Vegeta turned it off and waited for Raditz to defeat the two warriors before splitting up to kill the rest of them.

"It's a pity we're never sent on missions to planets that have real fighters," Nappa said.

Vegeta sighed and squatted with his arms resting on his knees. "What difference would it make? We would kill them all anyway."

"Well, yeah, but at least it would be a challenge! It gets boring killing everyone so easily. I want a real battle for a change."

The prince shook his head. "And be like Frieza? No. I kill quickly instead of drawing out the inevitable. I let Frieza's victims have the dignity of a fast death." The kind of death he wanted for himself. His life was nothing more than a slow, prolonged, torturous murder. Every slight to his pride, every order he had to follow, every blow he received in his regular beatings, every word of respect he ever spoke to the lizard, it all killed a part of him. It tore away his very identity. He was a prince, the crown prince of the most powerful race in the universe. Unfortunately it was an empty title. He was nothing. He would never amount to anything. He was a slave and nothing more. He belonged to the sadistic bastard that was killing him, cutting him down inch by inch. Every passing year marked another year of survival, but that was all it was. Survival. Not life.

Neither of the elite saiyans paid attention as Raditz easily dispatched the last two warriors who came to fight them. Vegeta was lost in his own thoughts while Nappa watched over him, wondering why he hadn't realized it before. Vegeta didn't lose the enjoyment in fighting. He was simply reacting against his greatest fear: becoming like Frieza. By disallowing himself from taking pleasure in his fights he was only making himself more miserable. He was a saiyan warrior. He _needed_ battle. It was in his blood.

When Raditz came over to them after finishing off the seventh warrior, Nappa and Vegeta looked up at him, broken from their reveries. Vegeta stood up and crossed his arms over his chest. "There is a group of these things to the south and another group to the west. You two split up and take them. I'm going to go after the rest."

"Yes, sir."

Vegeta blasted off to the northeast, leaving Raditz and Nappa to decide who would take each group of natives. Nappa checked his scouter to see the power levels. There was no significant difference between the two groups. "You take the west. I'll go south."

Raditz hesitated in leaving. "Nappa, tell me. You know what's wrong with him."

Nappa floated a foot above the ground, his hands clenching and unclenching in fists. "Later. Go."

"Fine." Raditz leaped into the air and rocketed toward the group of native creatures west of their landing site. He snarled as his frustration grew. He wanted to know what was wrong with his prince. He wanted to fix the problem. He probably wouldn't be able to, but he would do anything he could to help. Seeing Vegeta acting so lifeless was more frightening than being on the receiving end of one of his infamous tantrums.

The cold stung his face as he flew against the blustering wind. The soft flakes of snow felt more like tiny shards of glass as they whipped against his bare skin. Tears formed from the cold wind and leaked out of the corners of his eyes, instantly freezing on his cheeks. Vegeta didn't bother wiping the ice from his face and eyelashes. He didn't care. He never cared about much of anything anymore. He was numb, and not from the cold.

There was no sense of accomplishment in his kills. He never got a rush from seeing his opponents die by his hands. He felt nothing when he blew up cities and decimated entire civilizations. He felt no remorse when he took the lives of innocents. There was no pleasure when he fought a worthy adversary. Nothing. Killing meant survival. Survival meant more time to grow stronger. Growing stronger meant he could keep surviving. It was an endless, meaningless cycle he couldn't break free from. He used to want to be free. Now he hardly even cared. His rage had died down to a burning ember in the deepest recesses of his being. He was nothing but a shell. But even if he was dead inside, he refused to become like Frieza. He would not be a _monster_. No matter how much he wanted to be alive again, he would not stoop to that.

Vegeta stopped mid-flight and formed a small ki blade in his right hand. He held it to his throat and imagined the brief pain as it slashed through his skin and cut into his jugular. He could practically feel the hot blood flowing freely down his neck and chest, pooling under his breastplate as he gasped for his last breath. He pressed the blade against his neck, letting it burn his skin. He closed his eyes and prepared to jerk his hand to the right, slicing through his skin and muscle with ease.

'Coward.'

He took a deep breath and swallowed hard. He felt the ki blade against his Adam's apple as it bobbed up and down.

'Frieza will win.'

"Hasn't he already?" Vegeta cringed at the sound of his own voice. Hollow, dead. The only sound to be heard for miles aside from the howling wind.

_"Vegeta, you come from a strong bloodline and you possess the potential power to join the super elite of all saiyans. Never forget where you're from and train very hard, my son, because if you've proven yourself worthy, perhaps someday you will become a super saiyan."_

Vegeta snorted. "Who the hell were you kidding, father? I'm a disgrace."

'Only if you give up now.'

"Shut up."

'You must defeat him for your people!'

"I'm as good as dead anyway." Vegeta sighed and dropped his hand to his side. The ki blade dissipated. "What's the point of continuing this pathetic excuse for a life?"

'You _will_ defeat him.'

Vegeta raked his hand through his hair. "How do you know?"

There was no answer. Vegeta shook his head and clenched his hands into fists as he took off to the north. Why was he wasting his time arguing with himself and dredging up the past? Those words of his father haunted him every day of his life, reminding him every time that he was a failure. But more than that, his desire to prove that voice right grew every time that memory replayed in his mind. It promised him success. He desperately wanted it to be right. He wanted more than anything in the universe to know what it meant to live. He would sacrifice anything to feel again.

_A/N: Is Bulma OOC that much? I didn't think so. I could just say "it's an AU" and leave it at that, but here's the real explanation: Bulma's personality is a little different in this story because of Vegeta's influence on her. As Dr. Brief thought when he was watching them train together, she learned some discipline with Vegeta. So basically, she's not _as_ wild, outspoken, and crazy as in CU. She is by no means docile now, but she has better control over her impulsiveness. However, to an extent that will fade and she will become more like the Bulma in canon, though not fully. As a teenager she becomes more sure of herself and accordingly more selfish and self-absorbed._

_Sorry if Vegeta was a bit angsty. Come on, he has every right to be. He's a monster's pawn. And he's a teenager. Give him a break. Worry more about what that last part could mean for our favorite little saiyan..._

_Vegeta: 16  
><em>_Bulma: 15_


	30. Starting an Adventure

Starting an Adventure

Bulma finished packing her case of capsules and put it in her pocket. She felt guilty doing this to her parents, but there was no other way. She sat down at her desk, pulled out a piece of paper, and wrote a note to them:

_Mom and Dad,_

_ I'm sorry that I left without telling you, but I knew you wouldn't let me go. Don't worry about me – I'll be fine. I have all the capsules I'll need. I just can't stand being cramped in a classroom all summer. I need adventure. I can take care of myself. I'll be home as soon as I've made my wish. You know, the one with the dragon balls._

_ Love you and see you soon,_

_ Bulma_

The blue-haired sixteen year-old stood up and grabbed her dragon ball off the desk and ran downstairs. Her parents were out of the compound; her mother was grocery shopping and her father was negotiating a merger with a smaller company in East City. It was the perfect opportunity to leave home and find all the dragon balls so she could make her wish. She finally found a brief reference to the dragon balls and the legend that went with them in the book she found in her family's library. After that she had spent every moment of spare time analyzing the dragon ball, finally finding that it had a unique form of energy that could be detected. After she found that out, all she had to do was create a device that could locate that energy signal at any distance and she was good to go. It took a few months to get it just right, but she was finally ready, and not a day too soon. She was supposed to start her summer courses the next day. She felt the dragon radar in her pocket as she walked out the front door and smiled. She really was a genius.

She picked one of her capsules out of her case, pushed the plunger, and threw it in the driveway of Capsule Corporation. She looked over her shoulder at the large domed building and frowned slightly. She shook off her anxiety and got into the driver's seat of her car. She pulled out of the driveway and, without another backward glance, drove off to begin her first solo adventure. She had one dragon ball, which meant the other six were scattered across the globe. With her available vehicles, it probably wouldn't take long to gather them all, summon the eternal dragon, and make her wish. She giggled as she thought about the wish she was going to make with them. Forget a lifetime supply of strawberries – Bulma Brief was finally going to have the perfect boyfriend.

When she came to a stoplight she pulled her dragon radar out of her pocket and pushed the button on top. A few seconds later it made a beeping sound as seven yellow lights appeared on the grid. The one in the center was the one she had safely tucked away in her backpack. The other six were far away. The closest one was a few hundred miles southwest. The light turned green. Bulma tucked her radar back in her pocket and turned right to take the main road south out of West City.

Bulma was excited about going off on her own. It was the first time she was ever going to go anywhere without her parents. She didn't even have their approval to go on this little trip. She knew she might be in trouble when she returned home, but it would be worth the punishment. Besides, if she knew her parents, they would be too relieved to have her back safe and sound to bother with much discipline. Maybe a stern lecture at worst. She wasn't worried about the possible repercussions.

"They shouldn't worry anyway," she told herself. "I'm a martial arts expert. No one's going to be able to hurt me. I _can_ take care of myself and I'll prove it."

It was a few minutes before Bulma grew tired of the quiet car ride. She turned the radio on and tuned to a light rock station. That would liven the drive up a little if she was going to be stuck on the road for a long time. She sang along with the songs she knew and tapped her hands against the steering wheel to the rhythm of the songs she was less familiar with. She rolled her window down and allowed the wind to blow her hair around her face, not caring in the least that it would be a tangled mess to comb out that night.

'This is great,' she thought. 'I can't wait to get my wish!'

Hours passed and the sun dipped below the horizon. The night air chilled Bulma and she rolled her window up. She checked her dragon radar and, to her disappointment, saw that it was still a long way off. She made a lot of progress that evening, but it was probably going to be another day before she reached the dragon ball. She decided to stop once she found a secluded area where she could set up her capsule house to spend the night. It was getting late and she was having trouble keeping her eyes open.

Bulma drove through a small town and stopped a few miles down the road. The area was lightly wooded and she couldn't see any buildings around. She got out of her car, capsulated it, and walked into the woods to find a clearing big enough for her capsule house. In the dark of night the forest was creepy; she heard sounds made by small, scurrying animals in the dead leaves on the forest floor, the hoots of owls overhead in the branches, the wind blowing through the foliage, and the noises of dozens of different insects. She pulled her flashlight out of her backpack when the trees grew thick enough to block out the light of the stars and moon.

'Why did I think this would be a good idea?' she thought as she spun around after hearing a particularly loud twig snapping behind her. She cast the beam of light all over but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Still, her heart was racing as she turned and continued deeper into the woods. 'I probably won't find a clearing this deep in. Maybe I should turn around.'

She shrieked when she heard an owl startle in the branch above her head and fly away. She pressed her hand to her heart and took a few deep breaths to calm down. 'Stop being so childish!' she chided herself. 'Even if there's anything big and bad out here, you could take it down. You're a martial arts expert and you have a gun. Stop worrying.' Having given herself an encouraging pep talk, Bulma rolled her shoulders back, lifted her chin, and marched deeper into the forest fearlessly. It wasn't long before she found a clearing large enough for her capsule house. She pulled her capsule case out of her pocket, picked out the capsule house, and threw it on the ground. She smiled when the little white house appeared and walked in the front door.

Looking around at the furnishings and decorations, she decided it was absolutely perfectly fitted to her taste. Most capsule houses didn't come with the furniture already included and set up, but she had access to the best products on the line, so she didn't have to worry about snagging furniture capsules along with a house capsule. Bulma sat down in one of the recliners in the living room and set her backpack on the floor next to her.

"I can't believe I'm really doing this." She marveled at her own adventurism. She really did hope her parents weren't worrying too much. No doubt they would be quite concerned for her; after all, she was only sixteen and she was traveling across the world by herself with nothing more than a case of capsules, her wits, and a little bit of cash. "I hope it won't take too long finding all seven dragon balls."

Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since noon. She rose from the recliner and went to the kitchen to see what food was available. She looked first in the freezer and found a stock of frozen dinners. Not necessarily her favorite, but they were quick, easy, and edible. She pulled one out, opened the package, and put it in the microwave. While she waited for her food to heat up she took her dragon radar out of her pocket and checked to see how far the dragon ball was now. She frowned. It was such a long way off. But in another day or so she would reach it, and once she had two dragon balls she would stop having doubts about whether or not she should keep going.

After Bulma finished her dinner she went to the bathroom for a nice, relaxing bubble bath before bed. Sitting in a car all day made her feel stiff all over. She sighed contentedly as she lowered herself in the hot water. Baths were among her favorite things. During school she rarely got to take baths. She was always in too much of a hurry in the morning when she was getting ready for school, usually only have a few minutes to take a fast shower. Now that she could drive she was rarely late to school, but that didn't mean she wasn't pushing it. She couldn't remember how many times she had to sweet talk her way out of a ticket when she was pulled over for reckless driving.

When the water was lukewarm, Bulma got out of the bath and dried herself off. The clock on the wall told her it was after ten o'clock. If she wanted to get an early start in the morning she needed to get to bed. She wrapped the towel around herself and went to the bedroom. She popped open the capsule with all her clothes in it and grabbed a pink nightshirt and slipped it on over her head. Bulma wrapped her hair up in the towel and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I hope it doesn't get too lonely being by myself for however long this trip takes." Bulma, as much as she didn't like crowds, and though she didn't have many people she would consider friends, was not used to being alone for extended periods of time. She was still very close to her parents and spent most of her time at home with at least one of them. She helped her father in his lab and she would sit and talk with her mother while she was cooking dinner. Now, though, she was completely alone with no one to talk to but herself. As good a conversationalist as she was, she already knew everything she had to say.

After a few minutes Bulma unwrapped the towel from her hair and vigorously rubbed her hair with it to get it mostly dry. She threw the towel in a laundry hamper and went back to the bathroom to comb out her hair and braid it. She normally didn't like going to sleep with her hair still wet because it always looked like a bird's nest when she woke up, but if it was braided it would be somewhat controlled. Besides, who did she have to impress? She was alone and didn't plan on interacting with anyone the next day. She was going to be driving from morning until dusk, judging by the reading on the dragon radar.

She looked herself over in the mirror and nodded at her appearance. In her nightshirt and with her hair in a braid, she looked younger than she was. The curves of her body were hidden well, but it didn't matter. She turned the light off on her way out of the bathroom and returned to the bedroom. She slid under the covers and fell asleep almost instantly.

_She was walking through a strange corridor. She didn't think she had ever been there before. The walls and floor were all metal, and the air was frigid. The floor froze her bare feet as she walked. The way was illuminated with dim fluorescent lights. Not very welcoming. Almost like a prison, but there were no cells. On either side she would occasionally pass metal doors. Each one had a keypad next to it, so she couldn't go through them because she didn't know the entry codes._

_ Rather than wondering where she was, she kept walking. It was hard to tell, but she thought the corridor was constantly curving to the right, as if the structure of the building she was in was circular and she was walking along its perimeter. She stopped when she heard someone scream. Looking around, she didn't see anyone. She was alone in the corridor. There was another scream – more like a roar – of agony. It was difficult to determine which direction it came from. She started running through the corridor, wanting to help if someone was injured._

_ "Hello?" Bulma called. Her voice echoed. The sound was jarring even to her. "Hello? Is someone there? Do you need help? Where are you?"_

_ She skidded to a halt, nearly losing her footing on the cold metal floor, when she passed a door that was open. The light inside was more like a red glow. She peeked inside and saw a teenage boy lying on the floor. At first she thought he was unconscious (or worse, dead), but he slowly rose to his hands and knees. His whole body was trembling with the effort. It was only then she noticed the other occupant of the room. He was tall and elegant. His hair was in a long braid and he was wearing the same strange armor as the boy, except he didn't have a full bodysuit. He was attractive, but something in his eyes told her he couldn't be trusted._

_ "What's going on here?" she asked. Neither of the men looked her way. Instead, the one who had been floored stood, stumbled backwards a few steps, then righted himself and raised his arms defensively. The taller man moved into a similar pose. She knew they were about to fight._

_ "Do you really want to continue this, monkey?" asked the tall man. His voice, so smooth and deep with a heavy accent, seemed to perfectly match the rest of him. She wondered who he was. For that matter, who was the other man?_

_ She stepped into the room, careful to keep a safe distance from the fighters. She moved around them, keeping her back pressed against the wall, until she could see the other fighter's face. The first thing she noticed was his severe widow's peak that rose into a flame of coal black hair. It struck a chord of familiarity, but she couldn't figure out why. Her eyes drifted to his hands. What must have been white gloves were now tattered scraps of red cloth. His knuckles were bloody, but she could see the white of bone. Her stomach churned._

_ The battered youth made no verbal response to his opponent's taunting. There was the sound of a growl echoing through the room though. His white teeth, stained with blood, were bared in a snarl. Blood was trickling from his nose, which was crooked, swollen, and purple._

_ She gasped when he spit out blood and lowered himself to a crouch. He couldn't keep fighting in his condition! He had to stop, and she was about to tell him so when she heard the other man speaking again: "You can't win, monkey. You're weak. You will always be weak."_

_ The sound of the smaller fighter's laughter chilled her to the bone, more than the cold of the air. "You're wrong, Zarbon. You're stronger than me now, but while you stay the same, I'll keep growing stronger and stronger. And someday, I will kill you."_

_ "I'd like to see you try."_

_ 'I wouldn't,' she thought. 'Who is this kid, that he's threatening to kill someone? He has to be kidding, right? They're just sparring partners. Rivals, maybe. They seem pretty serious about it though. Man, I don't like that tall guy. He's cute, but he's a total jerk!'_

_ She stood there, confused, when the two fighters disappeared. She screamed when a shockwave knocked her to her knees. She looked around frantically, but she still couldn't see either of them. She covered her ears with her hands as the booms of blows being exchanged resounded through the room, bouncing off the metal interior and intensifying as they increased in number. She clamped her eyes shut and prayed for it to be over soon._

_ Her eyes opened wide when she heard something heavy land on the floor not far from her. The thud was accompanied by a groan of pain. It was the smaller fighter. Lying on his back, looking dazed, he had to have been seriously hurt. The other fighter was still nowhere to be seen. She crawled over to him to help, but he sat up and shook his head to clear it. He had a new set of burns and cuts scattered across his legs and arms that hadn't been there before._

_ "I will kill you," he whispered. She didn't think the other man was supposed to hear. "Mark my words, I will kill you. While you hide behind Frieza, I will keep going into battle. I will fight the universe's greatest warriors. I will kill them all, and I will learn their techniques. Just wait. I will have my revenge." He laughed again until he started coughing up blood. He tried to raise himself to his feet, but he fell over, finally unconscious._

_ She was reaching out to him when the other man appeared next to them. She reared back and slammed against the wall, knocking the wind from her lungs. The tall man spat on the other fighter's face and strode out of the room. She glared at his retreating back before crawling over to the other fighter again. The spit was dripping down his cheek. If she wasn't mistaken, it was burning his skin. When she tried to wipe it off, her hand passed through his face. She was no more than a phantom to him._

_ "Who are you?" she asked. She felt tears streaming down her face. "Why can't I remember who you are? Why did he do this to you? Are you really a killer? You can't be! You're too young." But she couldn't deny the venom she heard in his voice. He spoke truth. He battled. He killed. And he intended to kill more. For some reason, rather than being revolted by this man, this monster, her heart broke for him._

Bulma woke with a start. She sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. She pulled her hands away from her face when she felt wetness. Tears. She had been crying. Why? She shook her head and looked over at the clock on the nightstand. It was 6:30AM. Time to get up if she wanted to hit the road soon. She dragged herself out of bed and yawned as she stretched her arms over her head. Her back popped and cracked with the movement.

She went to the kitchen to make breakfast. She made herself scrambled eggs, toast, and a bowl of cereal. Normally she wouldn't eat so much if her mother wasn't cooking for her, but she wanted it to last her a long time so she wouldn't have to stop too soon to eat lunch. She brewed some coffee to help her wake up a little better and sat down at the table to eat. She had a sinking feeling in her stomach and couldn't figure out why. Instead of dwelling on it, she washed her dishes and went to the bedroom to capsulate her clothes. That done, she walked to the living room, picked up her backpack, and left the house. She capsulated it, tucked it in her capsule case, and headed in the direction of the road.

The woods were much less intimidating now that she had daylight to guide her way. The leaves were thick and the light was dim, but at least it wasn't pitch black. Plus the sounds of the forest were less creepy in the daytime. She still heard animals scurrying across the forest floor and up the rough bark of the trees, but she didn't imagine them to be blood-sucking monsters. Instead, she could see they were cute little chipmunks, squirrels, and voles. Nothing to be afraid of. It didn't take her long to reach the edge of the forest, the road she had traveled on the day before in clear view. No cars were in sight. She went to the side of the road and threw her car capsule on the ground. Once the smoke cleared she climbed in the driver's seat and started down the road with the dragon radar resting in her lap for easy reference.

The road was clear for a couple hours, but once Bulma approached a large city the traffic picked up until she was crowded on all sides. She hated driving in city traffic, though she was used to it since she lived in West City, one of the largest cities in the world. She weaved in and out of lanes and around cars, not caring who she cut off so long as she got through the city as fast as she could. She knew she was a dangerous driver, but she wasn't worried. As long as no one slammed on their brakes in front of her there was nothing to be concerned about.

Someone slammed on the brakes in front of her.

Bulma shrieked as she came to a stop mere inches from the car in front of her. She shook her fist out the window and yelled a few obscenities at the driver, which she discovered was not the best idea when the driver got out of his car and stomped over to her door. He was a tall man, probably approaching seven feet, and he looked like he was made of solid muscle. His black hair was slicked back and his eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. Bulma rolled up the window, locked her door, and shrank back in her seat. Martial artist or not, she didn't want to get in a fight with that guy. He was a giant.

"This is just great, Bulma," she berated herself. "Why can't you keep your big mouth shut?"

The man knocked on her window. She turned her head and smiled nervously, but she didn't bother cracking her window open. "Yes?" she mouthed.

"You got a problem with my driving?" he yelled through the window.

Bulma forced a laugh and rubbed the back of her neck. "Nope, no problem!"

"Lucky you're a girl," she heard him mutter as he turned and went back to his car. She breathed a sigh of relief. That was close. Maybe it would be better to be more forgiving when other people drove like maniacs.

The blue-haired teenager made it out of the city nearly an hour later and merged onto a crossing interstate to head west. The dragon radar showed she was still a long way away from finding the next dragon ball, but she was definitely closer than she had been the night before. Around noon she started getting hungry and stopped at a grocery store in a small town to buy a sandwich and a drink. She took it with her on the road, not wanting to waste any time.

"I always imagined adventures being a little more exciting than this," she grumbled as she drove down the road. There wasn't much scenery. The land was mostly flat and barren, spotted with a few low ridges and bluffs every several hundred yards. Some kind of wasteland, apparently. She went through small towns and villages every now and then, but otherwise there wasn't much to see. It was boring. If she had a companion it would be a little more bearable.

The sky was orange with the sunset by the time she stopped again. Her car was almost out of gas and she wouldn't mind getting something to eat. She found herself in a tiny village that was little more than one intersection with a gas station, general store, and a few houses. While her car was being fueled she crossed the street to go to the general store and buy enough food to hold her over until she stopped for the night and got a decent meal. She bought a bag of chips and a granola bar and headed back to her car. After paying for the gas, she got in her car and checked her dragon radar. She was almost to the dragon ball. It was only a few more miles to the southwest.

Bulma pulled out of the gas station onto the main road heading west. She would have the second dragon ball by nightfall at this rate. She giggled with excitement as she turned on a side road that would take her south. Still in the barren land, she didn't expect it to be too hard to find the dragon ball. A few miles down the road she checked the dragon radar one last time. It was directly west, but there were no roads going that way. She pulled off the side of the road and capsulated her car. She was going to have to rough it for a while. She put her backpack on and started hiking.

When she heard her dragon radar start beeping she knew she was close. She felt adrenaline pumping through her veins as she rounded the corner of a bluff, half-expecting to see the dragon ball sitting on a pedestal waiting for her to find it. Of course there wasn't. She surveyed the area and spied a cave in the side of the bluff. She started toward it, her hand reaching into her pocket to pull out the dragon radar. It was probably in there. Why would it be out in the open when she could go into a creepy, dirty cave to find it? The dragon radar confirmed her theory. The dragon ball was definitely in the cave.

"Fantastic." She returned the radar to her pocket and pulled her flashlight out of her backpack. No use tripping and breaking an ankle. She had to duck to enter the cave, but inside the ceiling was high enough that she could stand. She only had to walk a few yards in before she caught a glimpse of a bright orange crystalline orb. She hastened her steps and tripped despite having the flashlight. She screeched as she fell and scraped her knee. The piercing sound echoed in the cave and woke its inhabitants. Bulma screamed and covered her head with her arms as a colony of bats flew toward her as they made their exit.

Still shaking with fear and adrenaline, Bulma stood and took the last few steps to the dragon ball and picked it up. "The five star ball! Great!" She carefully tucked the dragon ball in her backpack along with the two star ball, pausing a moment to admire their magical glow when they were put so close together. "These things are definitely real. Oh my kami, I can't wait to get my wish! This is going to be great!" All fears forgotten, Bulma raced out of the cave and ran all the way back to the road where she got her car out and started driving south.

"Where do I need to go next?" she wondered aloud. She took her dragon radar out of her pocket and pushed the button until it showed her all the dragon balls in the world. She grinned when she saw two in one place, right at the center of the screen. Her dragon balls. Only five more to go. The next closest dragon ball was far east in the mountain district. That was a long way away. She sighed, knowing it was going to be a few days on the road for this one. She would go until dinner time and then stop for the night, she decided.

"Nine days. It's been nine freaking days!" she shouted as she banged her fists on the steering wheel of her car. Bulma was tired of driving long hours by herself. She had no one to talk to and it was making her crazy. At least she had finally reached the mountains, so the dragon ball couldn't be too far away. According to the dragon radar it was fairly close to her current location. She took a deep breath to calm down and stopped her car on a mountain road. She got out of her car to stretch out and check the radar to see which direction she needed to go. She smiled when she saw how close she was to the next dragon ball. One more hour and she would have it, she was sure.

Bulma took to the road again and soon found herself driving on a dirt road cutting through a thick forested area. She spent more time looking at her dragon radar than the road to make sure she was still going the right way. She glanced up at the road and screamed when she saw a young boy standing in the road. She swerved to the right, but couldn't avoid hitting him.

"Oh no! Did I kill him?" she screamed.

The boy jumped to his feet and grabbed a pole he had slung across his back and started yelling something about a monster. Bulma was completely baffled. How could a boy that small survive being hit by a car? She watched as he cautiously approached the car and prodded it with the pole in his hands. 'What the heck is he doing?' She screamed when he picked up the car and threw it on its side.

"Ok, that's it," she growled. She opened her window and crawled out far enough to take aim with her gun and started shooting the crazy boy. She saw that she made several direct hits, but other than causing a little pain he was unfazed. "What is going on?" Bulma opened her car door and climbed out.

"Hey! Watch out for the monster!" the boy yelled to her.

"What monster?" she demanded. "That? That is my car you dweeb!"

"A what?"

"A car. Haven't you ever seen a car before?"

"No."

Bulma quirked an eyebrow. She watched with irritation as the boy again approached her car and poked it with his pole. When his back was turned to her she got a clear view of a furry brown appendage sprouting from his lower back. A tail.

"No. Way."

The boy turned. "No way what? Are you sure this thing isn't a monster? Are you a witch?"

Bulma rolled her eyes. "No, it's not a monster and I'm not a witch. I'm a girl. Is that a tail?" she asked, pointing to the furry appendage waving freely through the air.

The boy looked over his shoulder at it. "This? Of course it's a tail! Everyone has one."

"No they don't."

The boy pulled up Bulma's dress. She slapped his hand away. "What do you think you're doing you little creep!"

"Checking to see if you had a tail."

"Of course I don't! I've only met one other person who had a tail!"

"Really? That's weird." The boy stepped closer to Bulma and patted her groin with his hand.

"What are you doing!" Bulma was quickly losing patience with the boy. He was either a complete idiot or a little pervert. Maybe both.

"You said you were a girl, I was just making sure." The boy grinned. "My grandpa always told me to be nice to girls. Would you like to come to my house and have lunch?"

"Uh…" Bulma pulled her radar out of her pocket and looked at it again. The dragon ball was in the direction the boy was pointing. What could it hurt to get a free lunch and a dragon ball all in one trip? "Sure, kid. You got a name?"

"Yeah! My name is Goku. What's yours?"

"Goku? That's a funny name. I'm Bulma."

"You think my name is funny? What about yours?" He laughed as he ran on ahead of her toward his house.

"There is nothing wrong with my name!" she shouted after him.

He led her down a narrow path through the forest, all the while dragging an enormous fish behind him and chattering about things she had never heard of before. She wasn't really listening anyway. She was too caught up in her own thoughts. 'He has a tail like Vegeta did. This is unreal! Maybe he knows Vegeta! But I don't know how. They can't be from the same place. He's too happy and trusting. Still, they're the only two people I've ever met who have tails. And his hair kind of looks the same too. Maybe they're a different race, but really closely related to humans? If he's the same kind of person as Vegeta, that explains why my car and bullets didn't kill him. That kid was practically indestructible.'

Bulma nearly plowed into Goku when he stopped in front of his small house to wait for her to catch up. She stopped right before she smashed into him. "So this is your home, huh?" she asked, looking up at the little cottage. It wasn't too impressive. It was so small there was probably only one room in there. Not exactly luxury. "Where's your grandpa?"

"He died a long time ago," Goku replied. He didn't seem too upset about it.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's ok." Goku opened the door and went inside with his giant fish. Bulma followed him in and looked around. As she expected, there was only one room. One corner served as a kitchen, there was a mat for sleeping on the other side of the room, and there was a table in the center that had –

"A dragon ball!" Bulma ran over to the table and picked up the orange ball.

"Don't touch that!" Goku shouted. He ran over to her and swiped the dragon ball out of her hands. "That's my grandpa!"

"Your grandpa? Goku, this is a dragon ball. There's others, see?" Bulma took her off her backpack and opened it to show him the other two she had collected.

"Wow! You have grandpas too!"

Bulma smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand. "No, Goku, they're dragon balls. There's seven of them total. When you gather them all together, you can make any wish you want and it'll come true."

"Why would you want to do that?"

"Hello! _Any_ wish you want! I'm going to wish for a boyfriend."

"That's silly."

"What do you know?" Bulma tucked her dragon balls in her backpack. She had to get him to give up his dragon ball somehow. The crazy kid thought it was his grandpa. How would she get him to part with it? Well, he did seem to be a pervert. "Tell you what. If you let me have your dragon ball, I'll let you have a little touch." She pulled up her dress, revealing her underwear to him.

"Why would I want to touch your dirty old bum?" he asked.

Bulma blushed as she dropped the hem of her dress. "It's not dirty you little monkey!"

Goku laughed. "You're funny!"

"I'll show you funny!" Bulma clenched her hands into fists. "I'll fight you for it."

The wild-haired boy stopped laughing, but he was still grinning. "Wow, really? I love to fight! How did you know?"

"That doesn't surprise me," she grumbled. "You're a lot like Vegeta."

"Vegeta? Who's that?"

Bulma sighed and shook her head. "Someone I knew a long time ago." She couldn't help the pain she felt as memories of the irritable boy flashed through her mind. She almost never thought about him anymore. She'd long since given up on him ever coming back to Capsule Corporation. He broke his promise to her. Deep down she knew all along that he probably wouldn't return. But thinking about it broke her heart all over again. It had been six years since he left her. Six years of longing for him to come home. She still missed him. She probably always would, at least a little, but she had moved on.

"Are you alright, Bulma?" Goku asked. "You look sad."

She forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. So what do you say we spar?"

"Alright! Let's do it!" Goku ran out the door and took her to a small clearing where they could fight without any obstructions.

"Ok, kid, let's see what you're made of." Bulma moved into her improved fighting stance across from him. She smirked when she saw him take a stance of his own that left virtually every area of his body unguarded. Beating him would be a breeze.

Well, she thought he would be.

"You're too short!" she complained as her kick went sailing over his head. He hardly had to duck. As her leg came around she dropped to the ground and spun around again in a sweep kick, but he hopped over her leg and shot forward. He head-butted her in the stomach, knocking the wind from her chest and her body to the ground.

'I am _not_ going to be beaten by this pint-sized idiot!' Bulma jumped to her feet and blocked a punch aimed at her face. While Goku was still airborne she punched him in the gut and brought her elbow down on his back. He yelped as he hit the ground hard.

"Wow," Goku said as he got to his feet, "You're really good. I didn't know girls could fight."

Bulma's lip curled in a sneer. How many times had she heard that one before? "Of course they can!" She lunged at him, but he dodged her, so she grabbed his tail before he could get too far away. Her eyebrows raised when he screamed in agony.

"Not my tail! Let go of it! Let go let go let go let go!"

She released his tail and stood up with her hands on her hips. "Does it really hurt that bad?"

Goku gently stroked his tail and nodded his head.

"Huh. Vegeta never let me touch his tail so I didn't know. I guess I see why." Bulma shrugged and lowered herself into her fighting stance. "So are you ready to go?"

Pain forgotten, Goku grinned and faced off against her. Before she could take the offensive, Goku leaped forward and started a barrage of punches and kicks fast enough to keep Bulma on the defense. When she found herself backed up against a thick tree trunk, she got angry. Angry that she was blocking blows from a kid and angry that she allowed herself to give ground. While she blocked a flurry of punches with her forearm, she swung her leg and connected with Goku's small body. He was sent flying a few feet. He rolled a few times when he landed and sat up, rubbing his head.

"Ow! That really hurt."

"Well, duh, it hurts to fight." Bulma, not wanting to waste more time and tired of fighting a child, ran forward and kicked him again before he could get up. While he was still in the air she clutched her hands together and beat him down. "Do you concede?"

"Concede? What's that?"

"It means give up."

"No way! This is too much fun!"

'Great,' Bulma thought, 'He has Vegeta's endurance too. This kid is nuts.'

The fight continued. Bulma gave everything she had, used as many techniques as she could remember and use effectively against such a small opponent, and hurled insults to throw him off his game, but Goku couldn't be kept down. Every time she floored him he got up and started anew. She was panting and sweating by the time half an hour had passed, but he wasn't even winded. She wiped the sweat from her brow and glared at him.

"Don't you ever get tired?"

"Sure, when I work really hard."

"Why you little!" Bulma clenched her hands into fists and stomped toward him. "Are you saying this is easy?"

"Well, not exactly. I _am_ really hungry. If I'd eaten before we started I would have beaten you a long time ago."

"Are you kidding me?"

"No."

Bulma wanted to be angry at him for his response. How dare he think he could defeat her! She had studied martial arts for a few years now. She was the best in all her classes. How could this hillbilly kid possibly know more than her?

As if he heard her question, Goku explained, "My grandpa taught me martial arts before he died. I still train every day. I love fighting!"

"How old are you?"

Goku rubbed his chin as he thought. He was never very good at counting, and he didn't keep track of time very well. "I'd guess I'm about fourteen."

"Fourteen?" Bulma looked him up and down. "You don't look fourteen."

"Oh well. So are we going to talk or keep fighting?"

"Kid, I got to hand it to you, you're good. I've never fought someone as strong as you." Bulma sat down on the ground. "I don't think I can keep going."

"So you concede?"

"I'll concede on one condition. Since I can't beat you for the dragon ball, how about you come with me while I collect the rest? It'll be an adventure, and I could use someone like you to help me."

"Wow! Really? You would take me with you?"

"Sure, why not?"

"That sounds great! But can we eat first?" Goku's stomach growled loudly. He grinned and rubbed the back of his head.

Bulma smiled and nodded her assent. As she followed Goku back into the house, she couldn't stop thinking about all his similarities to Vegeta. Strong, fast, naturally gifted at fighting, he had a tail, crazy hair, impossibly black eyes, and an inhuman appetite. There had to be some sort of connection between them, but she didn't know what it was, unless they really were a different race. Goku apparently didn't know who Vegeta was. She would try to figure it out later. Right now she was going to sit down, enjoy a nice meal, and then resume her search for the dragon balls.

_A/N: Sorry I didn't update on schedule! I was up from the crack of dawn 'til after midnight because my sister's wedding was yesterday. So. Busy day of getting pictures taken, decorating, transporting stuff to the church, refraining from killing pushy photographers and immature groomsmen, calming down stressed out family members, crawling around on the floor looking for dropped rings... partying it up at the reception, cutting and serving cake, watching my two year-old grouch of a niece, and tearing down decorations late into the night. By the time I got home I was physically and emotionally exhausted and really not in the mood to worry about posting a new chapter. Forgive me._

_At this point Bulma is still into fighting and stuff, but her selfishness is starting to show. Just an FYI, she is no longer training at the dojo. I guess I haven't made that clear in the story. The reason Bulma couldn't remember Vegeta in her dream was not because she'd forgotten him (as evidenced in the later part of the chapter), but she couldn't recognize him as a teenager and dreams are weird anyway. How could she dream about him training with Zarbon? Well, I guess there was some sort of subconscious bond between them. Does Vegeta dream about her? No. Saiyans only dream memories (and maybe the future, vaguely), and he can't access memories of her._

_I've finished writing chapter 40 and I have outlines made through chapter 55 I think...somewhere in the 50s anyway. Bored with Vegeta and Bulma being separate? I know a lot of you are, but I haven't even written the part where they're reunited again. I am almost there, though. Maybe in the next chapter I write. I'm trying to keep this section of the story as interesting as possible for you. It's a very important part, and as I've said before, I will _not_ rush through it._

_Vegeta: 17  
><em>_Bulma: 16_


	31. Monster's Reflection

_Warning: Implied rape. Vegeta fans may hate this chapter._

Monster's Reflection

Nappa laughed and clapped Vegeta on the back. "Wow, Vegeta, you sure know how to have fun!"

Vegeta smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. Beside him Nappa continued laughing, doubling over when he couldn't breathe. In front of him Raditz was howling in pain and trying to untie the knot in his tail without causing himself more agony. The third-class deserved his punishment after eating the last of the food allotted them by the lizard.

"I said I was sorry!" Raditz bellowed.

"When is 'sorry' ever good enough?" Vegeta asked. The punishment was harmless, really. Sure, it hurt, but it didn't do any lasting damage.

Raditz finally got his tail untied. He winced in pain as it wrapped around his waist. He glowered at his prince from his seat on the floor. He ignored Nappa's guffaws and rolled his shoulders back to muster as much dignity as he could.

Vegeta snorted at his attempt and turned to leave their quarters on Frieza's ship. "Come on, you morons. Frieza wants to see us. He probably has another mission for us. About damned time."

The three saiyans walked to Frieza's throne room. The guards at the doors opened them to allow them entrance. With chins held high the saiyans strode in and knelt down on the floor before the lizard tyrant's throne, feigning respect and reverence. It made Vegeta's blood boil every time he had to act like a servant to the freakish creature. Still, his expression remained stoic and his ki was held in check. He kept his eyes on the floor while he waited for Frieza to acknowledge him and his comrades.

"Vegeta," Frieza said, his scratchy voice grating on the saiyans' sensitive hearing, "I have a mission for you and your monkey squadron. There is a planet in the third quadrant of galaxy BY. Planet 1562BY is filled with resources I want. It will take you five absmonths to get there. It is known to have strong warriors, my pet. Do not get yourself killed. You are to leave immediately."

"Yes, Lord Frieza," Vegeta ground out. "How long do we have to complete the purge?"

"Six weeks."

"As you wish, Lord."

"You are dismissed."

The three saiyans rose and left the throne room, heading toward the hangar. They needed nothing more than their armor and scouters, which they always wore. A few minutes later they were standing in front of their space pods receiving more detailed information about the planet they were to purge. Vegeta feigned boredom as they were warned over and over again how powerful the fighters of the planet were, but inside he was filled with excitement. He would get to kill worthy opponents. It had been far too long since he fought anyone worth fighting while on a mission.

Raditz kept glancing at Vegeta as the instructions and information were given. He couldn't see anything beyond the stoic mask his prince always wore, but in his mind he could feel the excitement radiating from him. Their minds, always linked, let their stronger feelings across. They were impossible to completely control. Vegeta had changed since the purge of the ice planet. Instead of hurrying the purges, killing quickly and somewhat mercifully, he now took great pleasure in their missions. He was ruthless, crazed. He lived to kill and he loved it. While Raditz had been afraid of Vegeta's lack of enthusiasm, he had to admit that sometimes Vegeta's sadism was worse.

Once their debriefing was over, the saiyans got into their space pods and launched. They slipped into artificially induced slumber for the duration of their journey to planet 1562BY.

Three space pods shot across the sky and crashed into a mountainside. The planet's natives near the landing site ran out of their homes toward the three craters to inspect them. They were blown away by a wave of ki that engulfed the entire area.

"Nappa!" Vegeta shouted. "You idiot, what are you doing?"

The bald saiyan lowered his hand. "Killing that scum."

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Yes, I can see that. But you didn't wait for my command to do so."

"I'm sorry, Vegeta."

"You know sorry is never good enough," Raditz grumbled.

Vegeta cast a glare at the long-haired saiyan before turning away to take in his surroundings. There wasn't much to see now that Nappa had his fun. Sighing, he took to the air to find the next group of natives. Hopefully Nappa's attack drew the attention of the supposedly powerful warriors of the planet and they would come to defend their people from the saiyans. He didn't have to wait long before the first warrior's energy brought his scouter to life. He smirked when he saw the power level: 7,690. An easy kill for him, but he would be a suitable match for Nappa.

"Nappa, this one's yours." Vegeta lowered himself to the ground. Raditz followed him and landed a few feet behind him. They both looked up, waiting for the fight between the alien warrior and their bald comrade to begin.

"Do you think they're all that strong?" Raditz asked.

Vegeta understood his question for what it was. He was worried that he wouldn't be able to fight any of the planet's warriors. They were much too strong for him. His power never got much higher than 2,000. Pathetic third-class warrior. Vegeta grunted. "If they are, there's always the weakling civilians you can kill."

Raditz nodded, though Vegeta's back was to him. He was grateful that his prince didn't point out why he asked even though he understood. That was one thing he could appreciate about Vegeta. He was insanely powerful, even by saiyan standards, but he didn't lord it over his subjects – too much. He gained his power through beatings more than battles. In a way he wasn't proud of his strength as he should be. Besides, he never considered himself strong. He was always weak in comparison to the ones who mattered. Dodoria, Zarbon, Frieza. They were much, much stronger than him no matter how much his power grew.

"Should we start purging?"

Vegeta shook his head, never taking his eyes off the warriors in the sky. The fight had started and it was fairly evenly matched. Vegeta hoped there were even stronger warriors on the planet. If there were, he wanted to be ready for them. If he could learn some of their techniques by watching the battle between Nappa and one of the native warriors, he would. It never suited him to sit on the sidelines and watch, but he was above fighting someone so pathetically weak in comparison to himself when he had subordinates to do it for him.

The fight lasted half an hour with the warriors darting across the sky, blinking in and out of sight, throwing ki blasts at one another, engaging in close hand-to-hand combat, destroying the landscape around them, and beating each other senseless. In the end, though, Nappa won by blasting his opponent into oblivion. He dropped down to the ground near Vegeta and Raditz and wiped a trickle of blood from his mouth.

"Good job, Nappa," Vegeta said mockingly, "That only took you 35 minutes."

Nappa frowned. "I didn't want to finish him off too fast. He was a lot of fun."

"Whatever." Vegeta pushed the button on his scouter for the first time to locate the strongest energy signals on the planet. "There's more warriors heading this way. Most of them are weaker than that one. But there is one with a power level of 13,065. I'll take that one. Split up. Don't get killed. Report back here when they're all dead."

"Yes, sir." The two tall saiyans took off in opposite directions to lure some of the warriors away from their meeting spot. Vegeta flared his ki, hoping to attract the strongest warrior. His power could reach 17,000, but he wouldn't use his full strength in this battle. He wanted to drag it out as long as he could.

Vegeta waited impatiently for the arrival of his opponent. His scouter indicated that most of the warriors were hanging back, probably to finish up if the first wave of warriors were unsuccessful in defeating the enemy. There was a weaker warrior with a power level of 1800 heading toward Raditz and one with a power level of 6710 heading Nappa's way. Raditz would have a hard time with his fight, but Nappa probably wouldn't have much trouble.

The young saiyan yawned dramatically when the warrior finally reached him. He didn't even look to see what he was up against as he took to the air and started stretching his arms in preparation for battle. He didn't flinch when a small fist rammed into his cheek. He caught the second fist before it landed. "Excuse me," he drawled, "I wasn't ready yet. Have patience."

The other warrior growled, finally gaining Vegeta's attention. His eyebrow raised when he saw that he wasn't fighting a male. The corner of his lips turned up and a low chuckle rumbled in his chest. "They sent a female to fight the Prince of all Saiyans?"

"They sent me to fight the nobody prince of a dead race?" she snapped.

Vegeta's growing smirk turned down in a frown. "You'll pay for that."

"For what? Telling the truth?" The woman drew back from him and moved into her fighting stance. "Don't tell me I hurt your feelings."

It was only then Vegeta noticed her appearance. Her hair, the color of the sea, was cropped short. Her eyes were a piercing turquoise, and her skin was pale ivory. She was wearing loose-fitting pants, boots, and a tight tank top that matched her hair. He noted her lack of curves. Her body was unappealing to him, but her hair… for some reason it made him not want to hurt her. But that was ridiculous. Why did it matter what color her hair was? He growled and took his own fighting stance.

"The only thing you hurt was your chance of survival."

"Oh, I'm scared now."

"Stupid bitch. You should watch what you say to me."

"Oh really? Why don't you stop the small talk and fight me then?"

"I will." Vegeta tried to push back the feelings he couldn't explain. The feelings telling him not to hurt her. 'What the hell is wrong with me?'

"Get on with it then."

"Shut up!"

She straightened her posture and put her hands on her hips. "It's really not that hard. You _do_ know how to fight, don't you?"

"You insolent wench! You have no idea what you're up against."

"Why don't you show me?"

"I'm not sure I want to lower myself to fighting a female. Are you really the best this planet could provide?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "As a matter of fact I'm the strongest warrior on this planet. Why do you think females are weak? Around here they're stronger than the males."

"I'd hate to see how pathetically weak your males are then."

"Are you going to fight me or are we going to talk all day? I have better things to do with my time."

Vegeta couldn't figure out why he had misgivings about fighting her. She was a warrior. Who cared if she was a female? Who cared if she had strange blue hair? She was talking to him as if he weren't to be taken seriously. That was an insult to his pride. Yet, he still didn't feel right killing her. It wasn't that he thought it was _wrong_ to kill her. He just didn't _want_ to.

He snorted. "As if talking to the saiyan prince isn't the biggest honor you'll ever have in your pathetic life. Not that it's going to last much longer. And I don't see you making the first move. I don't think you want to fight me. You know you'll lose."

"No I won't."

"Fine, then I guess you're so entranced with my dashing good looks that you can't bring yourself to fight me and embarrass yourself when you find yourself clearly outmatched."

"Get over yourself."

He was getting angry with her. But the more he bantered with her the less his desire to kill her was. It made no sense. If she angered him, he should want her dead. But he didn't. He wanted to keep talking to her. He wanted to spar with her verbally, not physically. What for?

"Look, I know you're here to destroy my planet," the woman said, resuming her stance. "I'm not willing to let that happen. I will protect my people at all cost."

"Are they really worth it?"

"It is my duty. I am their queen."

Was that it? He didn't want to kill her because she was royalty? He shook his head. That didn't make any sense. Even if he had any particular qualms about killing monarchs, he hadn't known she was one before she told him. He thought she was a warrior like any other.

"Their morale is going to drop when I kill you."

"You won't kill me."

"We'll see about that."

Finally shoving aside his feelings, Vegeta charged forward and started their battle. The first thing he found out about her as a fighter was her incredible speed and agility. She was able to dodge every one of his blows, but she was never able to go on the offense against him. She would be strong, he had no doubt, but her power was in her movement. When she phased out of sight, he had great difficulty tracking her.

When she reappeared right in front of him, ready to strike, he forced his knee into her stomach and brought his fist down on her head. She fell to the ground and landed on her hands and knees. She shot into the air and started kicking and punching furiously, almost blindly. He dodged and blocked each blow. He could see her frustration building. While they were fighting he found himself laughing at her attempts to hit him. He knocked her to the ground several times, and each time she got up again he felt a rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins. She was no threat to him. She was a little girl, weak and furious, never able to compare to his power. But she didn't know it or wouldn't admit it; either way it didn't matter, she was going to lose.

He grabbed her around the waist, and dove toward the ground. Despite her fists beating against his back, he held onto her until the last second. He released her and swooped back up while she slammed into the ground head first. She didn't get up right away this time. He looked down at her, slightly disappointed that she was hurt so badly after that. He dropped out of the air next to her and straddled her chest, pinning her arms over her head with one hand.

"Poor queen, lying in the dirt," he taunted. "How fitting for such a weak race."

"You're a monster," she spat.

"You think _I'm_ a monster?" he asked. He gently rubbed his knuckles against her swollen cheek. He saw how she tried not to wince in pain, but he could smell her tears. She was hurting. He felt nothing but pride in her pain. "The only monster in this universe is Frieza."

She snarled at him and fought to free herself. "You're just like him!"

Vegeta's eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed as he scowled at her. "I am nothing like him!" He clenched his free hand into a fist and struck her. "He is a monster! A beast!" Each statement was punctuated with another punch to her face. Soon she was beaten practically beyond recognition. "How dare you compare me to him! How dare you! I am not like him! I hate him!" He brought his fist down, one last time, but it landed in the dirt next to her face. The ground shook.

"You poor fool," she whispered. "You have let him shape you into himself. Your own hatred has poisoned you."

"I am not a monster," he breathed. "I'm not. I kill to survive. I am not like him. I'm not."

He froze when she wriggled her arms free. Instead of attacking him, as he would have expected, she wrapped her arms around him. She was embracing him. Trying to comfort him. He wanted to push her away. He wanted to blast her into the next dimension for her audacity. She had some nerve touching him so intimately. She was pitying him. He didn't want her pity. Rage and confusion swelled in his chest.

"Vegeta, Prince of the Saiyans, don't let him do it to you. Don't let him make you like him. You can still change." He thought she was going to say more, but her words were cut off abruptly. He felt her blood flowing down his shoulder and over his hand. He freed himself from her dead embrace and pulled his hand out of her chest.

"You talked too damn much," he muttered. He raised his hand and blasted her body to ashes. "I will never be like Frieza. He can never make me into what he is. I kill because I am ordered to, not because I want to."

'That doesn't mean I don't enjoy it.' He refused to allow that thought to linger as he took off to find the next warrior to fight. She had been a good challenge while it lasted, considering he wasn't using his maximum power. He craved a stronger fighter, someone who could really put his strength to the test. He wasn't going to find such a challenge on this planet.

Vegeta flew high in the atmosphere, much higher than most warriors would go where it was cold and the air was thin. Numbers continuously scrolled across the display of his scouter, telling him he was flying above strong fighters, but he wasn't interested in them. Actually, he had lost all interest in the purge after his fight with the planet's queen. She hadn't brought back his conscience he cast off years ago. She hadn't made him rethink his willingness to kill others for his own sake. But he couldn't stop thinking that maybe she was right. Maybe he _had_ become like Frieza. When did it happen?

There was a time when he killed fast. The saiyans finished their purges in record time. They never spent many days on any planet. Instead, they rushed through it, quickly killing off the warriors and then wiping out the civilians, never playing with their victims. They hardly fought. They moved in, they killed, they left. Not anymore. Vegeta used to want to be different from his master. He wanted to give the best deaths he could. Now he took pleasure in torturing them before ending their lives. He drew his battles out much longer than they should have ever gone for the sole purpose of feeling a rush of power running through his body.

'I really have lost my mind.' The saiyan prince stopped in his flight. 'It's true then. I'm a monster, like him. I can choose to accept it right now, or I can struggle against it the rest of my life. Either option is less than ideal. Which is worse?' Vegeta raked his hand through his hair and tilted his head back to look at the dark sky above him. There was no answer to his question. He shrugged. 'Who gives a damn what I am? As long as I'm alive it doesn't matter.'

So the decision was to accept what he had become. He felt nauseous. How could he throw away his honor and give in so easily to the tyrant? 'It doesn't matter. Honor, life, whatever. The only thing that matters is my own strength. I don't care how I gain it, so long as I become strong enough to kill the lizard and take over his empire. That is my destiny. No one ever said I had to be sane to do it.'

Vegeta twisted around and dove to the ground, letting himself freefall without any ki. He laughed maniacally as he fell, the sound caught up in the wind and carried away for no one to hear. He waited until the last second to thrust his ki under him and shot to the west to find another warrior to fight. They were weaklings, all of them, but he could play with them. Cat and mouse was his favorite game when he was the cat.

'Maybe I should have kept that wench alive a little longer. She was probably strong enough to withstand a good banging.' Vegeta laughed again and spiraled through the air, throwing ki blasts in every direction and reveling in the destruction caused by his hand.

His scouter told him there was a warrior with a power level over 8000 ahead a few miles. Unlike many of the other stronger fighters on the planet, that one wasn't moving to find the hostile invaders. Well, he or she was about to get a fight whether it was wanted or not. Vegeta smirked as he flew faster, eager to take on another opponent he could kill. Sparring was great, but it never gave him the satisfaction of complete victory as he watched the life flicker out of his adversary's eyes. He flew in a direct course to the high power, blasting through buildings on his flight through the city where it was located. The screams of surprise and terror were music to his ears. Soon enough every one of them would be turned to a scream of agony as their lives were stolen away from them by the almighty Prince of all Saiyans.

"There you are." Vegeta came to a halt when he saw the warrior he was looking for. She was floating in the air with fists clenched at her sides. No doubt she had been waiting for him when she heard the sounds of devastation coming her way.

"Who are you?"

"That doesn't matter. What matters is _what_ I am." Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and circled around her slowly, predatory eyes roaming over her body. He liked her figure much more than the queen's. She had more curves. Rounder breasts, wider hips, longer legs. She had vibrant orange hair and peach-colored skin. "And _what_ I am is the _monster_ who is going to end your life and the lives of all the people on this pathetic planet." It felt strangely liberating to call himself a monster. As if he had finally stopped fighting an uphill battle he had been in for years, he could now admit the truth. He was no longer revolted by it. He no longer cared. If anything, it amused him. Yes, he was a monster. He always had been. He had no conscience. He had no honor. He was nothing more than a killer. And he enjoyed it.

The woman wasn't fazed. She moved into her fighting stance. "Even if you manage to defeat me, my queen will see to it that you bring no harm to my people."

"Your queen is dead."

"You lie!"

Vegeta chuckled. The sound was unnerving to the female warrior. It wasn't the sound of humor. It was the sound of insanity. "Don't be stupid. I killed her." He held up his right hand, covered in a glove that was once white. "This is her blood."

"No!"

"There's no need to be upset. You'll be joining her in hell soon enough."

Instead of engaging in more banter, the warrior flew forward and swung a hard right hook at Vegeta. While he was dodging that her left leg swung around and caught his ribs. He coughed, more from surprise than pain. He growled and grabbed her extended leg before she could retract it and crashed his elbow down on her knee. She screeched in agony as her leg was broken.

"That must hurt something awful," he said with fake concern. "I'll have to put you out of your misery."

Despite the pain, she gave him a solid uppercut that snapped his head back. While he was recovering from the unexpected blow, she backed away from him and readied herself for another attack. She watched as Vegeta reached up, put his hands on either side of his head, and cracked his neck. When his eyes met hers she felt a chill run down her spine. All she could see was madness in those onyx orbs.

"That was a good one. And it'll be your last." Vegeta phased out of sight and brought his fists down on her head in a double axe handle. She fell to the ground. He was immediately on top of her, keeping her pinned down. "You know all this fighting really gets the hormones flowing. That must be why they call it blood_lust_. What do you think? Do you feel it too?"

The orange-haired fighter couldn't mask her horror. She frantically kicked and struggled under the saiyan, but he was immovable. "No! No, don't do this to me! Just kill me! No!"

He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Oh, I'll kill you. Don't worry about that. Until then, enjoy the ride."

…

"_This_ is Master Roshi?" Bulma quirked an eyebrow as she appraised the old man standing before her. He was strange, to put it lightly. Long white mustache and beard, red-rimmed sunglasses, a crooked wood staff in his hand, and a purple turtle shell strapped to his back, he looked more like an escapee from the local loony bin than a master of martial arts. Of course she had heard of him. Who in martial arts hadn't? He was supposed to be the greatest martial artist in the world in his heyday. Maybe he still was, but she wasn't sure when she saw the man standing before her. He was old, scrawny, and a pervert. He kept trying to convince her to let him touch her private areas. How disgusting. She never let boys her age touch her, let alone some ancient creep like him.

"The one and only." He laughed as a deep blush spread across his prominent cheekbones. Obviously his mind was mucking in the gutter again. "What do you say I give you some lessons?"

Bulma rolled her eyes. "As if. I already know martial arts without your help, you old pervert." She crossed her arms and looked away from him. She really wished she was wearing something other than her nightshirt. Like a pair of baggy jeans, a frumpy old sweater, and a parka. She didn't care that she was standing on a tropical beach, she wanted to be as hidden as possible from his ogling. She sighed as she watched Goku flying around on the gold cloud Roshi gave him as a reward for returning his pet turtle home. He should give _her_ something! After all, _she_ was the one who found Goku in the woods. If she hadn't, he never would have met Turtle and never would have taken him to the ocean. She wanted credit given where it was due.

She backpedaled away from Master Roshi when he suddenly advanced on her, hands outstretched to grab whatever parts of her body he could. She screeched as he nearly tripped over a rock. "What do you think you're doing?" she screamed. That was when she finally noticed the object he had tied around his neck. It was orange, glowing, and it had a red star in the middle. A dragon ball! How had she missed it before? She had to get it, no matter what. "Listen," she said calmly, "I think you should give me something for helping bring your turtle back. Why don't you give me that thing on your neck?"

"What, this old thing?" Roshi asked, taking the dragon ball in his hand to examine it more closely. "Why would you want this piece of junk? It just washed up on shore one day…"

"It's pretty, that's all," Bulma said, maybe too quickly.

Master Roshi turned to Turtle. "Who helped you get back home?"

Turtle glanced between Bulma and Goku, who was still flying around. "It was the boy."

Bulma fumed silently at the turtle. She would admit she hadn't been too keen on the idea of helping him at first. It was a long way out of the way to take him to the ocean from where they were camped. She was on a tight schedule. Or at least, she was in a hurry to make her wish. If there hadn't been so many dinosaurs around she would have left Goku to his own devices and let him take Turtle home without going after him. She was strong, she could fight, and she wasn't afraid of anyone. But dinosaurs, that was a different story. The memory of being clutched in the claws of a pterodactyl the day before flashed through her mind. If it hadn't been for Goku, she would have been that lizard's dinner. Besides, it was always safer to travel in groups. Her attention was drawn back to Roshi, who had decided to bargain for the dragon ball.

"You show me your panties and I'll give you this thing."

Her face paled. Show that pervert her panties? How degrading! And yet, how easy to get another dragon ball. If he really was Master Roshi as he claimed to be, she wouldn't be able to fight him for it, that was for sure. She wasn't willing to take her chances and lose. She was still hesitant. There had to be some other way.

"No way!" She stamped her foot. "I helped bring your turtle back so I should get a reward for that. You gave _him_ that cloud thingy, why can't I have that?"

"Sorry, but Turtle said you didn't help. I won't reward you for nothing."

'Boyfriend or dignity, boyfriend or dignity? Oh, man! This sucks!' Bulma's hands moved to the hem of her nightshirt. She squeezed her eyes shut and lifted her nightshirt. "Here, look, old man! Now hand it over!"

Master Roshi looked. He didn't see panties. Blood squirted from his nose. "Oh-ho! This is my lucky day!"

Bulma dropped her nightshirt and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at the old man. She was disgusted by his display. She was blushing deeply, ashamed of herself for stooping so low for a dragon ball, but it was the only way to get him to give it up without a fight. She dug her toes into the sand and waited for him to gain some control over himself before demanding the dragon ball be handed over to her.

"Well, give it to me!" she shouted when he successfully stopped the flow of blood from his nose. She held out her hand for the dragon ball.

"All right, fine," Roshi mumbled as he took the dragon ball from around his neck and set it in Bulma's outstretched hand.

Bulma squealed with excitement and jumped around. "Yes, I did it! I got another dragon ball! This is great!"

"A dragon ball?" Roshi scratched his bald head.

Just then Goku came back to them, still on the flying nimbus. "Look, Goku!" Bulma said, bubbling over with joy, "A dragon ball! Master Roshi gave me his dragon ball!"

Goku grinned. "Wow, that's great, Bulma!"

"Come on, we need to get going." Bulma turned back to Roshi and Turtle. "Thank you, Master Roshi. You don't know how much this means to me." Giggling, she ran to her motorcycle and hopped on. "Bye!"

Goku went along beside her on the nimbus, laughing at how slow her motorcycle was in comparison. Before long they were back on track in their quest for the dragon balls. She was, for a change, happy that Goku was so naïve and helpful. Helping Turtle turned out to be one of the greatest ideas the kid ever had. Who knew she would get a dragon ball out of it? Good thing, also, that she decided to tag along, otherwise he might never have found her again and she wouldn't have ever gotten that dragon ball. Now they only needed three more and then she could finally wish for her perfect boyfriend. Nothing could stand in her way!

Nothing, she discovered, but a blue midget with a serious Napoleon complex. She had been close, so very close to getting her wish. She only needed one more stinking dragon ball, but that little creep Emperor Pilaf already had it and he was searching for the dragon balls as well to make a totally stupid wish: to rule the world. Bulma sat on the cold stone floor of the cell where she, Goku, Oolong, Puar, and Yamcha were being held and crossed her arms over her chest, pouting. 'This is just great! How do I get myself into these situations? Man, I should have stayed home where it was safe. Now I'll never have a boyfriend!' Bulma rubbed furiously at the tears stinging her eyes. 'Stupid little midget and his stupid sidekicks. Ugh! I could just scream! Well, what's stopping me?' Bulma stood up and screamed. She stomped her feet and threw her fists in the air and screamed and screamed until her voice was hoarse.

"Let me out of here you little freak!" she yelled at the screen on the wall. "I'll get you for this! You just wait!"

"Wow, Bulma," Goku said, rubbing the back of his head, "You're really mad."

She turned on him and had to restrain herself from punching his happily grinning face. "Of course I'm mad you idiot! He stole our dragon balls and he's going to get to make his wish! What is there _not_ to be mad about?"

"Well, when you put it that way it does seem pretty bad."

Bulma threw her hands up in the air and slid down the wall to sit again. There was no reasoning with that boy sometimes. He was way too cheerful to take when they were in dire situations like this. He took everything too lightly. It grated on her nerves. She would rather have him panic for a change. Bulma banged her head against the wall a few times. "There has got to be a way out of here."

Yamcha hit the wall a few times, but it didn't give at all, no matter how much strength he put into it. He sighed and ran his hand through his tangled mass of hair. "Hey, Goku, do you think you could use a kamehameha wave to break us out?"

Goku shrugged. "I could try."

"Well hurry it up!" Bulma yelled. "That creep is going to summon the dragon and make his wish any second now!"

"All right, everyone step back," Yamcha said, motioning for Oolong, Puar, and Bulma to head to the wall farthest away from Goku. They watched with bated breath as Goku cupped his hands to his side and started gathering his energy. Soon a bright blue orb of energy glowed in his hands.

"Ka-me-ha-me-ha!" Goku threw his wave of ki at the wall. There was a blinding flash of light, but when the dust cleared all there was, was a small hole in the wall not large enough even for Puar to escape. He frowned. "It would have worked if I weren't so hungry."

"Great," Bulma grumbled.

"No, look," Yamcha said, running over to the hole. "Puar, can you change into a bat and go stop him from making his wish?"

"Sure!" Puar transformed into a bat and flew out the hole. Upon Bulma's insistence, Oolong turned into a bat as well and followed her out. As soon as he was out Bulma ran over to the hole in the wall to look out and see what was going on. She gasped when she saw the massive dragon winding through the sky. It was bigger than she ever imagined. She looked down and saw Emperor Pilaf and his lackeys standing down below where the dragon balls were gathered. She growled and started beating the wall. "Hurry up, Oolong!" she yelled, though she was sure he was out of earshot. "You better not let him make his stupid wish!"

"Let me see!" Goku said. He hopped up and down trying to get a peek out the hole between Bulma and Yamcha.

They watched as Oolong wished for something and heard the dragon's voice boom, saying his wish had been granted. While she was frustrated that she didn't get to make _her_ wish, Bulma was thankful that the pig had pulled through and prevented Pilaf from wishing for world domination when the dragon _should_ have been giving her a boyfriend. She sighed and sank to the floor.

"Goku, can you try another kamehameha to get us out?" Yamcha asked. He knew the kid was hungry, and that made him weak, but they had to get out before Pilaf decided to take revenge for them foiling his plot.

"Sure, I can try." Bulma and Yamcha ran to the other side of the cell as Goku again gathered energy and blasted the wall where the small hole was. This time the explosion created a large enough hole for them all to get out and they made a run for it. They had no idea where to go to get out of the castle, but at that point they didn't care. They just wanted to escape with their lives intact.

But fortune was not on their side. After a brief run around involving Doberman pinschers and hungry boys, they ended up in a new cell with a tempered glass ceiling that even Goku's hard head couldn't break through. Bulma collapsed on the floor and sniffled after a few silent sobs. So she was going to die in the morning, whatever. She missed her only chance to ever get a boyfriend anyway, so what reason did she have to go on living? She sighed and rubbed her forehead. A serious headache was coming on.

"What're you looking at, Puar?" Oolong asked when he saw his old schoolmate gazing longingly through the ceiling.

"I was just admiring the full moon. Even though we're in a bad place it's still so calming." Puar sighed and turned back to gaze at the full moon.

"Oh no, guys! Don't you know a giant monster comes out on full moons?" Goku asked. Bulma raised an eyebrow.

"Don't be ridiculous," she told him. "Everyone knows monsters aren't real."

"No, I'm serious! My grandpa told me to be careful on full moons because a monster would come out and destroy everything. And it – it killed him."

Yamcha looked over at Goku and then to Bulma. He turned back to the tailed boy. "What do you mean it killed your grandpa?"

"There was a full moon one night, and when I woke up my grandpa was crushed."

"When you woke up? You mean you didn't wake up when it happened?" Yamcha put his hands on his hips and cocked his head. It was hard to believe such an outrageous tale when someone is claiming to have slept through the whole thing. If there was a giant monster close enough to crush his grandpa, how could he have not been woken up?

"No, I slept through the whole thing."

"Oh, really? That's…strange." Bulma glanced up at the full moon and the turned her gaze to Goku. Funny how he could sleep through that. It would be quite a feat, even for him. But hadn't he mentioned another time that his grandpa told him not to look at the full moon? Was there some sort of connection? Bulma gulped and rose to her feet again. "Hey, Goku, did you happen to look at the moon that night?"

Goku scratched the back of his head, his brows furrowed. "Well, now that you mention it, I think I did."

By then the rest of their group had figured out what Bulma was thinking. They backed away from him until they were pressed against the wall opposite him. It was unreal. Right? How could a little boy, as innocent and loving as Goku, possibly turn into a monster on the full moon? Monsters didn't exist! Bulma shook her head, trying to convince herself she was letting her imagination get the better of her. But the thought wouldn't leave.

"Just… don't look at the full moon, ok, Goku?" she asked. She couldn't keep her voice from trembling with fear.

"What full moon? I don't see it." Goku looked up through the glass ceiling, then caught sight of the glowing orb hanging in the sky, casting its silvery light on his face. "Oh, wow! Look at it! It's so huge!"

"No, Goku, don't look!" Bulma screamed.

"What? What's wrong, guys?"

Bulma cracked one eye open, expecting to see some sort of hideous beast standing where Goku was. All she saw was her friend. His tail was waving happily behind him and he was looking at her and the others with confused amusement. She breathed a small sigh of relief. If he was going to change into a monster because of the full moon, he would have done it already. She laughed nervously and was soon joined by Yamcha and the others.

Their laughing stopped when Goku's eyes turned red and he started sprouting thick, dark fur all over his body that was rapidly growing. His clothes tore as his muscles expanded. His companions all screamed in terror as he continued to grow, his nose and mouth extending into a muzzle with razor sharp teeth. His eyes glowed red and his hands and feet grew black claws that looked like they could tear through anything. And still he grew until he was towering over them, breaking them out of the cell and easily destroying half the castle.

'This is not good,' Bulma thought as she stared up at the howling monkey-monster. She couldn't help herself. She screamed.

And that scream grabbed Goku's attention. He roared and brought one fist down on the castle while he swiped Bulma off the ground with his other hand. He squeezed her until she thought her ribs were cracking under the pressure.

'Not good, not good! I do _not_ want to play King Kong!' Bulma started to panic, beating her fists against Goku's enormous hand and screaming at the top of her lungs. "Put me down! Someone help! Help me!" She looked down and wished she hadn't. The ground was so far down, easily fifty feet. It made her dizzy. Or was that from the way Goku was waving her around through the air? It was too much stress. Being put in so many perilous predicaments in one day can wear a person out, even someone as strong-willed as Bulma Brief. 'He's a monster,' she thought. 'My little Goku is a big, scary monster. At least we're free from Pilaf.' With that thought, she fainted.

Bulma woke up some hours later, the faint light of dawn already tinting the dark blue sky with tendrils of pink and orange. She blinked a few times and rubbed her head, wincing as her chest ached with the movement. She turned to the side and saw Goku lying near her, back in his small humanoid form. She sat up, holding her head in her hands. "What happened?"

Yamcha, again keeping a safe distance from her now that they weren't trapped in a small room together, told her, "Goku was holding you and you passed out. Puar cut his tail off and he turned back into his normal self."

"Huh? Oh, I remember," Bulma said. It was too wild even for her dreams. Goku really turned into a giant monkey and went on a rampage. The ruins of Pilaf's castle in the distance eschewed any doubt about it. The kid was a freak.

Goku started to rouse a few minutes later. He had the same question as Bulma on his lips as he regained consciousness. He, like Bulma, was informed that Pilaf's castle was destroyed while he was out, but he wasn't told that it was he who did it by transforming into a crazed monkey beast.

"So now what?" Bulma asked while Goku was putting on Oolong's trousers. "We have to wait a whole year before we can collect the dragon balls again. I have to wait a whole year longer to get a boyfriend."

"And I have to wait another year before I can wish to stop being afraid of girls," Yamcha added sullenly.

Bulma and Yamcha looked at each other, giant grins spreading across their faces as they realized both had gotten their wishes without the dragon's help. Bulma squealed with delight while Yamcha whooped for joy as they embraced each other.

'Yes! I finally got a boyfriend, and he's totally dreamy!' Bulma thought. She'd had a long night and a crazy adventure, but now it was time to go home and show off her new boyfriend to her parents. It wasn't the first time she was bringing some wild, homeless boy to Capsule Corporation to stay with her family. She knew they would accept him right away. After all, they had accepted Vegeta all those years ago. 'Oh, Vegeta, where are you?' she wondered. 'I guess you're never coming back, but I hope you're ok wherever you are.'

_A/N: Yes, I know we all hate Vegeta doing what he did. I hate it as much as anyone, but realistically, if he's raped the cycle will continue. He doesn't have a conscience anymore anyway. Of course he won't stay like this, so hang on. It would be a shame to give up on him now. You will have the pleasure of seeing him overcome Frieza's influence, I promise._

_This story was supposed to be about 30 chapters when I originally came up with the plot. Obviously it's going to be a lot longer than that. How much longer? I'll put it this way. I've been outlining future chapters, and it's surpassed _Rediscovering Honor_..._

_Vegeta: 17  
><em>_Bulma: 16_


	32. Against Odds

Against Odds

Bulma sighed and looked out the window. The deep blue water lapped at the sandy beach of the island and a small flock of seagulls circled lazily through the air. She held her cheek in her hand as she gazed at the small piece of tropical paradise. Well, it would be paradise if it were lacking an old pervert who tried every few minutes to hit on her or touch her breasts. Her mouth turned down in a frown as her eyes shifted over to Master Roshi who was sitting out on the beach reading another one of his filthy magazines.

'I can't believe I'm stranded here! We don't have any way off this stupid island except swimming.' Bulma turned her attention to the kitchen where Launch was humming to herself as she prepared lunch for them. Krillin wasn't around; he was tired of waiting for a ride so he went for a swim through the ocean to go shopping. She sighed again. 'I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for that idiot Yamcha. It's all his fault! Oh, I can't believe him! He – he can be so charming one minute…'

_ "I have just about had it!"_

_ "Oh, Bulma, please don't say that," Puar said, trying to calm the irate heiress._

_ "Why not?"_

_ "Because it's always been Yamcha's dream…"_

_ "One week, two weeks, three weeks, four weeks. Four whole weeks! And he doesn't even call! He didn't send me a letter or flowers or even a stinking postcard!" The more she thought about it, the angrier Bulma became. She and Yamcha had been dating for almost a year and this was how he treated her. He left her in West City while he went out to the wilderness to train for the World Martial Arts Tournament. Sure, she was proud of him for his ambition. She wouldn't mind trying to fight in the tournament herself, but she knew she just didn't have the strength it would take. Still, that didn't mean Yamcha's training was a good enough excuse to up and leave her for a whole month without any form of contact._

_ Oolong crossed his arms behind his head. "Face it, baby, by now he's forgotten your name." By now he was used to her complaining and didn't bother trying to console her._

_ "Well, I would not be surprised!" Bulma growled and didn't notice the orange fall out of the grocery bag she was carrying until it hit the ground. The soft smack caught her attention. Her eyes followed the orange as it rolled out into the street. Bulma didn't glance to the left or right before darting out into the street after it. She was bending over to pick up the renegade orange when she heard the horn of a semi-trailer quickly moving in her direction. She looked up and froze in fear. She squeezed her eyes shut and wished with all her might that the truck would disappear._

_ Suddenly she felt a rush of cold air flying past her as strong arms wrapped around her waist. When she opened her eyes she could see the same truck that was feet from hitting her drive by on the street. The only thing that gave evidence of her near-death experience was the remains of her groceries smashed on the ground. She swallowed her fear and pulled away from the person who was still holding her. "You saved me." She looked up at his face. She didn't recognize him. Reacting faster than she could think, she drew her fist back and hit him with a hard right hook._

_ The man, dressed in black, fell to the ground and held his cheek with his hand. "Ow! Bulma, what was that for?"_

_ "Who are you?"_

_ "Come on, look, it's me!" The man lifted his bangs with his free hand and grinned at the blue-haired teenager._

_ "Yamcha!" Bulma offered him her hand to pull him up to his feet. When he was standing in front of her she crossed her arms over her chest and her smile vanished as a scowl crossed her features. "I was worried about you. For all I knew you were dead in a ditch in a country you can't pronounce!" She drew her fist back and feinted another right hook. While he blocked that punch she brought her left leg around and kicked him to the ground. She smirked when he lost his balance and fell over again._

_ "Bulma!"_

_ "You deserved it," she spat. "You said you were training. Well if you were so busy training, why couldn't you see that one coming?" Her voice raised until she was screaming. "You're going to have to make this up to me!"_

_ "Ok, sure." Yamcha got to his feet and hugged Puar when she flew over to him. Bulma had already turned her back on him and was walking down the sidewalk with her hands on her hips._

_ "Now come on," she said, sweetly as ever as if she hadn't just pummeled him. "Let's go get you cleaned up."_

'Ok, maybe not charming. But there's something about him. Still, that doesn't give him the right to go around flirting with every girl in school! And then at the amusement park! I can't believe it! He was kissing that fortune teller!' Bulma slammed her fist down on the table. All the mechanical parts she had laid out bounced from the impact and some of it crashed to the floor. She cringed at the noise. Staying angry was considerably easier when she remembered what a cheating, lying jerk her now ex-boyfriend was instead of remembering the good times she had with him or all the little things he did to make her forget all his faults. Coming back to the city right in the nick of time to save her from certain death after abandoning her for a month was one of those things. She scowled at the machine she was trying to create and swept it off the table.

"I can't take this anymore!" Bulma stood up, knocking her chair over backward. "I want to get off this island! I should have gone with Goku to search for the rest of the dragon balls! Anything would beat this! Even if it means going to the heart of the Red Ribbon Army."

It hadn't been too long since the Red Ribbon Army's defenses blew her scout plane out of the sky after she used it to track Goku and see what he was up to. When she nearly died from more than one threat in the pirate cave they found at the bottom of the ocean, she decided she had had enough adventure for one lifetime and wanted to go home. She was seriously regretting that decision now. She was bored. Really bored. Inventing various devices passed the time while she waited for some news of Goku and his attack on the Red Ribbon Army headquarters, but her heart wasn't in it. Her mind kept drifting from Goku to Yamcha to school to dragon balls… she was too distracted to keep inventing. Her best friend was heading into great peril, she still had feelings for her ex-boyfriend (and not just anger), and she was stranded on a tiny island with a crazy personality-changing woman, a turtle, and an old, perverted man when she would much rather be off causing trouble somewhere.

Launch ran into the main room when she heard the ruckus. "What's that, Bulma? Did you say something?"

Bulma groaned and picked up her chair. "No, Launch," she said, "I'm just tired of sitting around doing nothing. I want to help Goku. I'm afraid he's getting into a lot of trouble taking on a whole army by himself." She sat down and stretched her legs out. "I've always hated sitting on the sidelines."

"Oh. Well, maybe we could go help him."

The aqua-haired teenager quirked an eyebrow at the other woman. "I don't know how. We're trapped on this island. We don't have any sort of vehicle."

Launch shrugged and returned to the kitchen to finish cooking lunch. A few minutes passed quietly with Bulma tinkering around with another little invention that had no real purpose while Roshi would occasionally break out into lecherous laughter outside and Launch would clatter pots and pans while working in the kitchen.

"Yamcha! We could call Yamcha!" Bulma shouted. "But we don't have a phone."

Turtle looked over at her. "Why don't you just make one? You seem pretty handy with electronics."

"You're right!" Bulma turned to her pile of mechanical parts and started fashioning a makeshift telephone out of them. She didn't know why she hadn't thought of that before. Honestly, being a genius was harder than it looked. She might be ridiculously smart, but she couldn't _always_ come up with the ideas.

Half an hour later she was standing on the beach with Roshi, Turtle, and Launch waiting for Yamcha. He arrived within a few minutes and touched down a few yards away. Seeing him was enough to make her heart leap, but at the same time her fury rose as she remembered what he had done to her only a couple days earlier. Launch was the first to climb in the plane, then Roshi, Bulma, and lastly Turtle. Oolong and Puar were already there with Yamcha. She was apprehensive about going to confront an army, but she was excited at the same time. Goku had already fought some of the Red Ribbon Army and managed to defeat them, so maybe they weren't so tough even if they did have big guns.

"Ok, now which way is this place?" Yamcha asked.

Bulma took out her new dragon radar and indicated with her hand the direction they needed to go to find the home base of the army. "That way. It's a long trip, so let's hurry. And let's pick up Krillin on the way. We might need him."

Yamcha nodded. "Good idea. Here we go!"

…

Vegeta yawned and rolled onto his back to face the next day aboard Frieza's ship. Well, it wasn't as though there was day and night on the ship, just time with light to create artificial days 30 hours long. He blinked a few times in the darkness. It wasn't light yet. On the opposite side of the small room he could hear the growling snores of the older saiyans. He always woke before them, even when he went to bed heavily injured. He didn't know if it was because he required less sleep than the average saiyan or if they were simply lazy oafs. It didn't matter what the reason was. It annoyed him either way. Silently, he rolled over and shifted into a crouch. With bared teeth he leaped across the room and landed on Nappa's chest, hopping away before the bald saiyan could react. He bounced back to his bed while the oldest saiyan launched himself out of bed in surprise and landed on Raditz.

Raditz yelped when Nappa's tremendous weight landed on him. "What the hell are you doing?" he yelled.

"Waking you up, you lazy oaf," Nappa grumbled. He quickly moved away from the low-class saiyan and straightened his armor. Behind him, Vegeta broke out in laughter, again tainted with mockery as he watched his subordinates get up, keeping their distance from one another after their awkward awakening.

"Serves you fools right for sleeping so long. Bunch of weaklings."

Nappa gaped at the prince. "But Vegeta! The lights aren't even on yet!"

Vegeta sneered at him as he pulled on his gloves and stepped into his boots. "Which means it's the perfect time to get busy training. Come on." The saiyan prince led the way out of their quarters and stalked through the pitch black corridors of the ship. No one spoke, so the only sound echoing through the metal hall was the clomping of their boots on the floor. Vegeta didn't normally take Nappa and Raditz with him for his predawn training. He wasn't sure either of them knew he went to train alone every day before they ever dragged themselves out of bed. It didn't matter anyway. He preferred solitary training. But lately he noticed the others slacking off, which certainly wasn't helping their power levels any. Of course they would never compare to him, but he was not going to let the last of his race become the laughingstock of the galaxy as they were surpassed by the rest of Frieza's army.

While Vegeta put in the entrance code to the training facility, Raditz grumbled to Nappa, "Is he really going to make us train so early? This is ridiculous."

Nappa shrugged, though no one could see it in the dark. "Why not? No one else will be training now so we don't have to wait for any open rooms."

"I guess."

"Would you two shut up?" Vegeta hissed. "I don't want anyone else to know we're here!"

"Sorry, Vegeta," they mumbled. The door opened and Vegeta went inside. The others followed him in. Vegeta moved over to the computer console that controlled the conditions inside the room. He didn't turn on any lights, but he did increase the temperature until it was blistering hot and turned on the devices in the room that suppressed the ki of anyone within.

Vegeta sat down on the floor to do his stretches before beginning his workout. "Alright, you idiots, you're going to train alone until the lights come on. Then we're going to spar for an hour before you're allowed to go to the mess hall. Got it?"

"Yes, sir." Nappa and Raditz went through their stretches as well. By the time they started their exercises they had already been listening to Vegeta's grunts of effort as he pushed himself into a handstand and started one-handed push-ups. Raditz was still barely awake and Nappa was reluctant to work himself into a sweat so early, but they did as their prince commanded.

After a while, Vegeta noticed an obvious lack of sounds coming from the strains of a hard workout. He had his suspicions about the reason for the quiet, but he kept them to himself. The lights would come on soon and then he could be sure. Shoving aside his anger at the other two, he lied down on the floor and started his sit-ups. True, his early workouts were boring, but he knew that building his strength from the ground up without ki infusing his muscles was the best way.

The lights came on right as Vegeta was finishing his workout. What he saw confirmed his suspicions. Nappa was sprawled out on the floor asleep, probably losing the battle against his exhaustion in the middle of a set of sit-ups. Raditz was at least sitting on the floor leaned up against the wall. He probably wasn't even exercising when he conked out. Vegeta rolled his eyes. They were even weaker than he thought. He stomped his foot on the floor, making the whole room shake. "Wake up!" he roared. "Right now!"

"Huh? What?" Nappa sat up and rubbed his eyes. "What's going on?"

"Apparently not your training," Vegeta growled. "Get up!"

Nappa scrambled to his feet. Raditz, however, continued snoring peacefully. Quickly losing patience, Vegeta gathered a ball of ki in the palm of his hand and threw it at the sleeping saiyan. "I said wake up!"

Raditz jolted awake and jumped to his feet, looking around frantically to locate his attacker. Instead of relaxing when he saw Vegeta rather than an enemy, his muscles tensed more. He knew he was in trouble this time. "I'm awake!"

"Yes, _now_ you are. Idiot." Vegeta turned away from him. "Since both of you decided to take a nap instead of train, you are going to train here for three extra hours today, which means no evening meal. Understand?"

Raditz groaned. He could stand a few more hours of training, but missing a meal? That was unnecessarily cruel. But there was no arguing with his prince. He glanced to his left and saw Nappa already moving into his fighting stance. With a sigh of resignation, he did the same. He still felt more asleep than awake, but he would have to stay on his toes if he was fighting with Vegeta. He knew he wouldn't hold back, even in a spar.

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and waited for the others to make the first move. Surely they would take advantage of him having his back turned to them. A small smirk grew on his lips when he felt the air move as Nappa shot forward to attack. He dodged to the right and caught the massive leg that shot past him. He lifted it, flooring Nappa, and spun him around to knock Raditz into the wall as he charged. He laughed when they hit the wall and fell to the floor with a loud thud. "That was too easy! You obviously need to train more."

Nappa was the first to recover. He clamored to his feet and faced off against the prince. He knew going into this fight that he had no chance of winning. He hadn't beaten Vegeta in a spar since he was a little boy, but regardless there were still techniques he could teach him through their spars. Vegeta was an experienced warrior with unbelievable power, but he was still young. He still had much to learn. This time Nappa waited for Vegeta to make the first move. When he leaped forward, Nappa backpedaled away before jumping high into the air, bouncing off the ceiling, and landing on the far side of the room. Before Vegeta could find him, he rushed him with his fists glowing with ki.

Vegeta anticipated the attack and sidestepped him, but that did not deter the taller saiyan. He whirled around before smacking into the wall and phased out of sight. Stopping above Vegeta, he clenched his fists together and crashed them down on the prince's head. Vegeta stumbled backwards from the hit, but he didn't fall.

"Is that the best you can do?"

Nappa laughed. "You should know better than that, Vegeta."

"You're right." Vegeta flicked his tongue over his canine. "You can do better. So show me!"

"You got it!" Nappa lowered his fists to his sides and started raising his power level. He screamed as his aura lit up around him and sparks crackled through the air. His muscles swelled with his heightened ki until he looked nearly double his normal size. "Alright! Let's go."

The prince scoffed and lowered himself into his fighting stance. "You've been stronger. The computer says your power level is only 7300. Have you even _been_ training between missions?"

"What? That's impossible!"

"'Fraid not, Nappa," Raditz said, having finally recovered. He was standing in front of the computer looking at the readout on the screen. "It's 7300."

"That settles it," Vegeta said, sliding his left foot into a wider stance. "You're going to train extra hours every day until you can at least reach your previous level of 8000." He spat on the floor. "I will not have my race turn into flabby weaklings. Now fight me, both of you!"

"As you wish." Raditz growled and clenched his hands into fists. A three-way brawl was sure to be a load of fun when his opponents were each a few times stronger than him. 'Oh well,' he thought, 'at least it'll make me stronger.' That was the end goal, at any rate. Vegeta intended to whip the older saiyans back into shape if it killed him. He heard the other soldiers talking about how weak they had become, always relying on him to take out the strongest warriors when they went on purge missions. They were rarely given a challenge anymore. It was no wonder they were growing weaker over time while his strength continued growing steadily. His power was already over 20,000. At the rate he was going, it wouldn't be long before he was at the same level as Dodoria. That would be a glorious day, indeed, when he could defeat that pink behemoth. Frieza might be angry, he might beat him half to death – or further – but it would be worth the penalty to watch the life drain from his ugly face.

'Small steps,' Vegeta reminded himself as thoughts of Dodoria's demise flooded his mind and broke his concentration. 'His soldiers, his lackeys, and then the lizard himself. I will keep getting stronger and I will take out his army as I go. Count on it.'

…

"Look, down there!" Bulma pointed out the window as a stampede of Red Ribbon Army soldiers fled from the compound on foot, in trucks, and in helicopters. Their frantic escape could only mean one thing: Goku was there stirring up trouble among their ranks. These were the men smart enough to run instead of trying to fight him. "We shouldn't let them get away."

"Why not? They're not hurting anyone," Master Roshi said.

"Because." Bulma crossed her arms over her chest. "They're evil people! Even if Goku manages to take down the higher-ups, these people might decide to promote themselves and hurt more innocent people in the future. Killing is deplorable, but sometimes it's the lesser of two evils. I say we take this whole army down so we never have to worry about them again."

"So let's go down there and shoot them all in the face!"

Bulma stifled her laughter as Launch got excited at the prospect of killing. At least someone was on her side. "Well, since you're the one packing some serious heat, Launch, why don't you go make sure no one gets away? The rest of us will go on to the main compound and take out anyone still there."

"Now wait a minute! You can't just go killing people like this, Bulma!" Roshi frowned at the blue-haired teenager. "Most of these people are contracted help. They're not necessarily evil. I can understand your desire to annihilate the threat, but it's wrong to go killing everyone here."

"Then what do you suggest we do?" Bulma shouted.

"Bulma, calm down," Yamcha said, trying in vain to placate his ex-girlfriend. "Master Roshi's right. We have to think this through. It's wrong to go kill everyone associated with the Red Ribbon Army. Most of these people probably just did it for the benefits. They're not bad."

"Oh please!" Bulma pounded her fists on her knees. "We can at least stop them from getting away. _Then_ we can decide who deserves to live!"

"Everyone deserves a second chance," Roshi said.

"Stop talking and drop me off here!" Launch yelled. "I'll keep 'em from gettin' away. Once you figure out what you want me to do with 'em you can let me know!"

Yamcha gulped when he felt Launch's automatic rifle pressed against his temple. "Alright, alright! But promise not to kill anyone, got it?"

"I won't kill anyone who doesn't open fire on _me_."

"Oh fine." Yamcha conceded, knowing it was better not to argue with the blonde Launch. He lowered the plane until it was right above the trees growing around the Red Ribbon compound. He hovered in place and opened the hatch so Launch could get out. She jumped out and started firing wildly over the heads of the soldiers.

"Alright, everybody stop right where you are!" she screamed. Everyone around her stopped, too shocked by the madwoman's sudden appearance to even think of firing back.

Seeing that Launch had everything under control, Yamcha closed the hatch and fired up the jet to continue on toward the compound. He saw a huge explosion on a nearby mountaintop, probably the result of a massive missile. He hoped there weren't more where that came from that would aim for an unidentified flying object such as their plane.

"Hurry up, Yamcha," Bulma yelled. "We have to hurry. Goku might need our help!"

"I hate backseat drivers," Yamcha mumbled. Then, speaking so everyone could hear, "We're almost there, but I think we should land soon and walk the rest of the way. We don't want to be shot down."

Bulma growled in frustration. "I don't think anyone's manning the stations! We'll be fine. Keep flying!"

"No way! I think Yamcha's right," Krillin said timidly. "We won't be able to help Goku if we're dead."

"You people are impossible!"

Bulma's complaint fell on deaf ears. It was decided with or without her support that they were going to land a safe distance from the compound and sneak in on foot. Yamcha found a small clearing in the thick forest and landed the plane. They got out and ran to the deserted road that led to the compound. Up ahead, they could see something flying through the air in their direction.

"Oh no! That could be another helicopter!" Oolong screamed. "Run for cover!"

The others ran after him and hid themselves in the trees along the road until they could get a clear view of the flying object. It didn't look much like a helicopter from their viewpoint, but the army might have strange looking vehicles they hadn't seen before. It never hurt to be careful when in enemy territory. It was only a minute before it was close enough for them to see who it was. Goku was riding his flying nimbus, heading straight for them. They ran out into the road and started screaming and waving to draw his attention.

"Hey guys, what are you doing here?" Goku waved and came down to where they were standing.

"We came to help you fight the Red Ribbon Army," Krillin replied. "You haven't taken them on yet, have you?"

"Yeah." Goku grinned and rubbed the back of his head. "It was easy. I got the two dragon balls from them and now I'm going to go find the last one. Oh, that reminds me! Bulma, I think the radar's broken. Do you think you could fix it for me?"

Bulma shrugged and took the radar from him. "I guess so. It shouldn't be too hard. But I thought you didn't want to gather all the dragon balls. Weren't you just looking for your grandpa's ball?"

"Yeah, I was, but I promised someone I would find all seven dragon balls and wish for his father to be revived."

"Oh." Bulma pushed the button on the radar, but no lights showed the location of the dragon balls. That was unusual. It was on, but it wasn't showing anything on the grid. "I don't have anything with me to fix it right now. We'll have to go back to Roshi's island before I can get it working again. But Goku, did you really defeat the whole Red Ribbon Army by yourself? Are you positive there's no one left?"

Goku scratched his head. "I'm pretty sure."

"We should go make sure." Bulma put her hands on her hips. "We don't want anyone bad to get away. I know we can't kill all the soldiers, but if there's anyone else left who was in charge of the whole organization, it might be better to get rid of them. At least put them in prison or something, you know?"

"Bulma's right." Yamcha drew his sword and pointed it in the direction of the headquarters. "Let's go!"

"Well, ok, I guess we can go back." Goku shrugged and led the way on his flying nimbus.

"Wow, this place is a total wreck," Bulma said when she saw the ruins of the Red Ribbon compound. There was hardly a building left standing without any damage. Many of the columns were fallen over, leaving the balconies, raised walkways, and porches to collapse under their weight. The main building in the center was all but demolished, with holes in the roof and walls and it was leaning heavily to one side, threatening to fall any moment. As they walked through the streets they could hear bricks crumbling and falling to the ground and the support beams bending. Fires billowed out of some of the windows of a select few buildings, indicating explosions had gone off inside. What caused the explosions one could only guess. "Maybe no one _is_ left."

"The only way to know is to check each building. Come on, guys. Someone should stay out here to make sure no one runs away while we're inside." Yamcha ran to the door of the closest building and kicked it down. "Oolong and Puar, stay out here. Give a holler if you see anything, ok?"

"Ok!" Puar flew up high to keep watch while Oolong ran toward the compound entrance, hiding himself behind an overturned tank and covering his head. He wasn't going to keep watch for anything. It was way too dangerous.

Inside the building, Bulma, Yamcha, Goku, Krillin, and Roshi split up to search for signs of life. They ran through the halls, looking behind every door and turning over every piece of furniture to make sure no one was hiding in even the smallest nook or cranny. They found no one in the first building. They met outside before running to the next building to check for members of the Red Ribbon Army.

Goku found a large metal door that wouldn't open no matter how hard he pushed it. There was no doorknob to turn. He had no idea how to get through it. "Hey, Bulma! Do you think you can get this door open?" he called. Bulma, who had gone the opposite way down the hall, turned when she heard him and ran back in his direction. She stopped in front of the door and looked it over.

"It probably requires some sort of code." She looked at the keypad next to the door. She grinned. "This is a piece of cake! I can get us in, no problem. She pried the front of the keypad off and started examining the wires. "Oh, I wish I had my pocketknife! That would make this a lot easier."

"Your pocket what?"

"Never mind, kid. Hold on." Bulma fiddled around with the wires until she could figure out what each one's function was. Having deciphered that problem, she easily got the door to open. She cheered for her own genius and ran through the door with Goku at her heels. The hall led to a dark staircase that took them deep into the ground. The lights inside were dim, but they could see that they were in some kind of laboratory, not much unlike Bulma's father's lab at Capsule Corporation.

"Wow! What is this place?" Goku asked as he ran around.

Bulma whirled around when she heard a crash behind her. "Hello? Is someone there?"

"What'd you say, Bulma?"

"Quiet, Goku! I thought I heard something. Is someone here?"

They both strained their ears to hear, but there were no more sounds. Bulma knew there was something amiss. While the crash could be attributed to the place falling apart from the recent explosions through the compound, she didn't think that was the cause. She took out her pigtail and tied her hair up in a ponytail. If there was going to be a fight she didn't want all her hair to be in her face. She wished she were wearing more appropriate clothes for fighting, but when she got dressed that morning she hadn't anticipated a confrontation with the Red Ribbon Army. A tube top and shorts were not ideal for fighting, but it was what she had on.

"Hey, Goku, come here," she whispered, gesturing him over with her hand.

"What is it?"

"Would you be quiet?" she snapped. Then, quietly, "I still think there's someone down here, but hiding. I'm going to go wait by the stairs. I think it's the only way out of here. You go over there and start looking, ok?"

"Ok!"

Bulma rolled her eyes. He failed to understand the concept of stealth. She ran over to the stairs and gave Goku the signal to start his search. Goku ran to the opposite end of the laboratory and started overturning tables, opening cabinet doors, and even pulling out drawers in his search. He was coming closer to a large wooden desk when a gunshot broke the quiet.

Bulma screamed and covered her ears with her hands. "Goku! Are you alright?"

"Ouch! That really hurt!" Goku rubbed his forehead and winced in pain. "Where did that come from?" There was another gunshot. This time Goku managed to dodge the bullet. "Hey, I saw that!" He ran toward the desk and a man with long, white hair crawled out from under it and dashed toward the stairs where Bulma was ready for him.

While he was glancing over his shoulder to see if he was being followed by Goku, he didn't notice the blue-haired girl waiting around the corner. Therefore, he did not notice the punch aimed at his face. He ran right into Bulma's fist and fell over with a cry of pain.

"Stop right there!" Bulma yelled. The man pushed himself up to his feet and backed away from her. "We've got you cornered. Give up."

"Fools! I don't have to listen to you!"

Goku jumped over a table and landed behind the white-haired man. "Who are you? Are you a member of the Red Ribbon Army?"

The man looked over his shoulder, then turned back to Bulma. "You don't know who I am? I am the great Dr. Gero! The creator of the Red Ribbon Army!"

Bulma clenched her hands into fists and took another step forward, scowling at Dr. Gero. "You sound like a bad man to me. Goku, we should finish him and keep him from creating more weapons and robots that they can use to hurt people!"

Goku rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. "I thought that tall man said some guy called Commander Red was the leader of the Red Ribbon Army."

Dr. Gero grimaced as if he smelled a foul odor. "That fool was nothing more than a pawn to me. I am the true brains behind this organization! And I will rebuild it to be even stronger than before, as soon as I kill _you_."

"I'm not scared of you!" Goku spread his legs and raised his arms to take on his fighting stance. "If you're really the one who started the Red Ribbon Army then you're a bad man."

"And you're nothing more than children." Dr. Gero reached into his pocket and pulled out a small device he could conceal in his fist.

"Like I've never heard that before." Goku frowned and darted toward Dr. Gero with fist raised to strike. He flew backwards when Gero raised his hand and used his device, similar to a taser gun, but much stronger.

"You stay away from me, you brat!"

"Hey, leave him alone!" Bulma ran forward and swept Dr. Gero's feet before he could defend himself. She jumped over his hand as he reached for her ankle to pull her foot out from under her. "Goku, you need to get up!"

"Owie! That hurt." Goku's eyes stung with tears as he sat up. His hair and the fur on his tail were frizzed from the electrical current that swept through his body moments before.

"Foolish girl!" Gero tased her until she fell to the ground. Figuring she was out of commission, he turned his attention to Goku who was back on his feet and readying himself for another attack.

Goku jumped high in the air and stretched his leg out to kick Dr. Gero. He was again shocked with a high voltage current of electricity that completely incapacitated him. He crashed to the floor and convulsed with the shock that didn't stop when he hit the ground. "Stop…it!"

"You will not defeat me, boy." Dr. Gero was relentless as he continued shocking Goku until he screamed in pain and writhed around on the floor.

"Goku? Oh, no, Goku!" Bulma pushed herself to her hands and knees, but she didn't have the strength to make it to her feet. "I have to stop him."

"I suggest you stay back, girl."

"Oh shut up, you old coot! You can only use that thing on one of us at a time." Bulma crawled forward and knelt next to him. She punched his jaw, knocking him to the ground. He lost his grip on the taser and it went skittering across the tiled floor. "Goku, quick, grab it!"

The only response she got from the wild-haired boy was his tongue lolling out of his mouth and some senseless babbling.

"Goku! Hey, Goku! Are you ok?" In Bulma's distraction, Dr. Gero sat up and backhanded her. She screeched in pain and held her hand over her cheek where he struck her. "You big jerk!"

"Oh shut up!"

Bulma lowered her hand and made a fist. If only she wasn't still feeling the effects of that super strong taser, maybe she would be able to fight him better. She snarled at the old doctor and inched away from him. She had to find a way to defeat him or he might get away. But Goku was down for the count and she was hardly up to speed. Well, there was one thing she could do.

"Yamcha! Roshi! Krillin! Somebody help! Hurry!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Shut! Up!" Dr. Gero crawled over to grab his taser from the floor. He raised it and used it on Bulma. She screamed in pain as electricity flowed through her body. After a few seconds she was sure her heart was going to explode. "I'm sure you two will make excellent androids."

"Make it stop!"

"Bulma!" Yamcha bounded down the stairs when he heard Bulma's screaming. He found Dr. Gero tasing her and Goku was lying helplessly on the floor not far away. He twitched every few seconds, but he apparently couldn't get up. Yamcha flew toward Dr. Gero and swung his leg around to kick him in the head. Dr. Gero crashed into a table and groaned in pain.

Yamcha stepped over to Bulma and helped her sit up. "Are you ok?"

She tried to wave him off, but she fell back. Had he not been supporting her she would have fallen to the floor. She slipped out of consciousness, so Yamcha gently laid her down. He turned to where Goku was still lying and rushed over to him. "Goku? Goku, are you alright? What happened? Who is this guy?"

Goku shook his head and rubbed his temples. "What happened? I don't know, he just shot me with some weird thingy that made me feel funny." He was quickly regaining his muscle control and stood up, though he was somewhat shaky on his feet. "That guy's really mean!"

"Yeah, I can see that," Yamcha agreed. "Who is he?"

"He says he's the one who created the Red Ribbon Army."

"What? The creator? Are you serious?" Yamcha stared at the old man and tried to form words, but none came to him. _That_ old man was the brains behind the Red Ribbon Army? Sure, he looked like some sort of mad scientist, but not a mastermind behind a whole army. He shook his head slowly.

While they were busy talking, Dr. Gero got up and stumbled over to a cabinet pushed against the wall and opened it. He pulled out a small object no larger than a tube of chapstick and pushed a switch on it. A high-pitched beeping sound came from it and a red light started blinking. "You will not defeat me! Now die!" Dr. Gero threw the tiny bomb at the group of teenagers and ran for the stairs.

"Oh no you don't!" Yamcha got up and ran after him. He caught his foot and dragged him back into the laboratory. "We're not going to die, but you are!" Yamcha punched Dr. Gero three times in the stomach and shoved him to the floor next to where the bomb landed. He picked Bulma up and yelled over his shoulder, "Come on, Goku! We have to hurry out of here! That bomb's going to blow any second!"

"Right!" Goku nodded and ran after Yamcha up the stairs. They barely made it out the door at the top of the stairs when the whole building rocked with the explosion the bomb made. A great fire and a cloud of black smoke poured out of the open doorway.

"Let's get out of here!" Yamcha headed for the exit with Goku following close behind. "Roshi! Krillin! Get out of here right now, the whole building is coming down!"

All of them ran out of the building and kept going when it came crashing down behind them. They didn't stop running until they were halfway across the compound. When they reached another entryway to a building, Yamcha laid Bulma down on the steps. She was starting to regain consciousness by that time and groaned when she felt the pain ripping through her body.

"What happened? Yamcha? Did you get him?"

"Yeah, don't worry about him, Bulma. He was still in his lab when a bomb exploded down there. There's no way he lived through that."

Bulma heaved a sigh of relief. "Good. If he's gone, then hopefully the Red Ribbon Army will be gone for good."

"You got that right." Yamcha smiled at her. "Think you're up to searching for more soldiers or do you want to wait here?"

Bulma sat up, a little too quickly. She felt dizzy for a few seconds. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me. That taser thing was really strong. Man. Ok, I can get up now." Bulma slowly stood up and leaned against Yamcha for support. "There's no way I'm letting you guys go in there without me. This is my operation, got it?"

"Sure, Bulma."

They spent the next few hours meticulously searching through each of the buildings left at the compound and destroying all the weapons, robots, and vehicles they found to make sure they couldn't be used for evil purposes ever again. It was a long day, but when they were sure there were no leading officers of the army left, they left the compound. They found Launch on the only road leading out, still holding several dozen soldiers hostage. All of their guns were removed and she had them at gunpoint if they made any wrong moves. They learned the hard way that she was a woman not to be toyed with. After picking her up and reprimanding the former soldiers, they flew back to Master Roshi's island where Bulma could fix the dragon radar.

Except it wasn't broken. "I don't know why I can't get this stupid thing to work! Maybe there's nothing wrong with the radar. Maybe something swallowed the dragon ball so the radar can't detect it."

"What do you mean swallowed? What kind of animal would eat a dragon ball?" Oolong asked.

"I don't know, a hungry one?"

"Hm, that is interesting." Roshi stroked his mustache and set aside the magazine he was flipping through. "Well, if the radar can't locate it, maybe you could ask Fortuneteller Baba where it is. She could tell you."

"Fortuneteller who?" Bulma turned the radar off.

"Fortuneteller Baba." Master Roshi stood up and left the room for a few minutes. He came back holding a rolled up map and spread it out on the table. "See, her palace should be right about here." He pointed to a strange-shaped lake on the map.

"So you mean to tell me this woman can tell us where the dragon ball is?" Oolong asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Then why'd we waste time with the dragon radar?"

"Why, indeed?" Bulma asked. She slammed the dragon radar down on the table. "We could have asked her a long time ago where the dragon balls are and saved ourselves a whole lot of trouble!"

"It's not that simple," Roshi told them. "Anyway, if you go there you can find out where the dragon ball is."

"Alright, sounds like another adventure!" Goku jumped into the air in excitement.

"Count me in!" Krillin said.

"And me!" Yamcha stood up and thrust his fist into the air.

Bulma crossed her arms and looked away from them. "Oh, and I suppose you're just going to run off without me? I don't think so. I'm coming with you."

"But Bulma," Goku said, "I thought you said you tired of adventures and wanted to go home."

"That was yesterday. I realized I get too bored when I'm not out saving your butts."

"Whatever you say, Bulma."

"Alright, then let's go," Yamcha said. He pulled his plane capsule out of his pocket and went out the front door with Krillin, Goku, Bulma, and Puar.

The trip to Fortuneteller Baba's palace took several hours, and when they got there they got stuck in line behind a bunch of rough-looking thugs. They waited impatiently for their turn to see the fortuneteller, and while they were waiting Goku left to bring Upa with them since he was the reason they were trying to find the last dragon ball. Eventually the men who went in before them came out, looking the worse for wear. They had obviously been in a big fight, but why people would be fighting in a fortuneteller's palace was a question they didn't have the answer to. They soon found out, though, that fighting was the payment if they didn't have ten million zeni.

"Fighting five of your fighters, eh?" Krillin asked the little fortuneteller. "Well, that's not so bad. We can do that."

"Are you sure about this, Krillin?" Bulma asked, pulling him aside. "I don't think we can trust her. Something about her gives me the creeps. This is probably a trick."

"Relax. Who could she possibly have fight us? If you haven't forgotten, three of us fought in the World Martial Arts Tournament. We're experienced fighters."

"Yeah, great kid." Bulma crossed her arms and sighed. "Whatever, I guess we can try."

"Well, then, let's begin," Baba said. She cackled with glee as she led them to a small fighting arena surrounded by water. "The rules are simple. If you pass out or fall in the water you're out. You will have to get through all five of my fighters and then I will give you your fortune."

"Sounds simple enough." Krillin stepped forward, eager to take on the first opponent. The rest of them stood off to the side to watch.

The fight started with Krillin facing off against a vampire. Krillin was cocky at first, thinking his opponent was nothing but a bad dancer who could transform into a bat at will. But he soon learned that he needed to take the vampire seriously when it latched on to his head and started sucking his blood.

"Krillin, shake him off!" Goku shouted.

"You know, I think it's awfully strange that this is a real vampire," Bulma said, rubbing her chin. "I always thought they died in sunlight."

"That's just an old wives' tale," Baba told her.

"Oh. Does that mean all the other stories about vampires are made up too? Like their aversion to garlic and crosses and stuff?"

"No, no, those are all true."

"I see." Bulma turned back to the fight and saw that Krillin finally managed to get the vampire off him. Unfortunately, his head was bleeding quite profusely, making him feel weak and dizzy. He wouldn't be able to keep fighting at the rate he was going. "Krillin! Give up! You're going to bleed to death if you keep fighting!"

"I don't feel so good." Krillin stood, wobbling to and fro, until the vampire kicked him from behind, landing him in the water. There was a brief reprieve in the fighting while Krillin's head was bandaged up and given a blood transfusion to replenish him with nutrients.

"Ok, what we need is for someone to eat garlic," Yamcha said as they huddled together to discuss tactics.

"Do you think she'll let Upa and Puar fight together?" Krillin asked.

"We can ask." Goku waved over to Fortuneteller Baba. "Hey, Baba! Can Puar and Upa fight as a team since they're so small?"

"I'm ok with that if he is," Baba answered, looking to the vampire.

"Two heads is better than one."

"Alright, great. Ok, Upa, eat this garlic." Yamcha pulled a clove of garlic out of his pocket and handed it to the little boy. "You just have to breathe in his face and he should stay away from you. Puar, you'll transform and make sure he falls into the water."

The fight continued, and as planned the vampire was completely knocked off his feet by the smell of Upa's garlic breath. When the vampire tried to attack Puar, she transformed into a hedgehog, repelling him easily. He changed into a bat and tried to fly away to safety, but Puar chased after him, changing into a giant hand and smacking him into the water.

"Alright! I'm going to fight next," Yamcha said, stepping into the ring.

"Hey, I don't think so buddy!" Bulma climbed onto the ring and shoved Yamcha off the edge. "They're probably going to get stronger as we go and I want my chance to fight too. I know I won't be able to take on the later fighters so _wait_!"

"Ok, Bulma, ok," Yamcha muttered, waving his hands defensively. "If you want to fight this next guy you can."

Bulma smirked triumphantly and went to the center of the ring. "Ok, where's my opponent?"

"He's already here," Baba said.

"What? Then why can't I see him?"

"Because he's invisible."

"What?" Bulma shouted. "An invisible opponent? That's not fair!"

"Fair or not, you have to fight me!" A voice, seemingly without a body, came from behind her and kicked her in the back. Bulma fell into a somersault and bounced up to her feet, looking around in a panic to locate her unseen adversary.

"Ok, where are you?" she hissed. She closed her eyes and listened for him since she couldn't see him. She learned better than to rely solely on sight. "There!" She punched the air to her right and struck something solid. While her opponent was still stunned, presumably, she took her opportunity to kick him down.

"Way to go, Bulma!"

"Good job!"

Bulma held her finger to her lips to get her friends to be quiet. She wasn't going to be able to hear the invisible man if they were cheering for her. They quieted down, but Fortuneteller Baba started singing an awful song in her terrible, screeching voice that set Bulma's teeth on edge. "Would you shut up?" she yelled.

In her moment of distraction she was knocked to the floor again. Bulma rubbed her head as she stood up and turned around in a circle, listening for his footsteps, but she couldn't hear anything over the fortuneteller's song. It was driving her crazy. Her feet were swept away and she fell again. She growled and glared at Fortuneteller Baba.

"This isn't fair! Shut up! I can't hear a thing!"

"Bulma, concentrate!" Yamcha yelled from the sideline.

"I can't with that old hag's ululations over there!"

"Hey, invisible man, go get her!" Krillin yelled.

"Why thank you."

Bulma turned to her left and threw a right hook that caught the invisible man right in the jaw. She caught him with a roundhouse kick and jumped on him. She could hear his sharp exhalation. "I don't care if I can't see you, I'm still going to win."

"I don't think so, little girl!"

Bulma kicked forward, hitting his jaw once again. Bulma dropped down to straddle his chest and started punching his face until he screamed in pain.

"Stop, stop! I can't take it anymore! I give up!"

"Ha, yeah! I win!" Bulma jumped to her feet and danced around the ring.

"Yeah, Bulma! Good job!"

"That was great!"

"Save your accolades, children," Fortuneteller Baba grumbled. "You haven't beat all five of my fighters yet. The next match will be at the devil's toilet. Follow me."

It took them almost an hour to get started with the next match after going inside and ascending over a thousand stairs to get to a dark, reeking room with a pool of thick, green acid at the bottom and only a narrow floor to fight on high above.

"Hey Yamcha, I think I'll let you take this one, ok?" Bulma said when she saw the boiling pool of acid far below.

"That's fine. Wish me luck." Yamcha went to the entrance and waited for his opponent to come and fight.

Not that he had much of a chance against Baba's third fighter. The mummy proved to be more than capable of holding his own than anyone would have given him credit for. Someone a few thousand years old definitely shouldn't be so immeasurably strong and fast, but he was. Yamcha lasted a decent amount of time, but in the end he couldn't defeat the mummy and was only saved from falling into the acid by Goku's power pole.

"Go get that freak, Goku!" Bulma yelled as the young fighter made his way to the devil's toilet.

"Yeah, get him!" Krillin shouted.

The fight against the mummy lasted a while, with Goku put in incredible danger over and over. The mummy certainly wasn't concerned about fighting fair, but in the end Goku defeated him and moved on to fight the fourth fighter Baba had in store for them. He was a tall man, dressed in a devil costume. He tried to use Goku's evil thoughts against him, to make him literally explode, but he soon found that Goku didn't have an evil thought in his head to use against him. He found defeat at Goku's hands and finally it was time to face off against the fifth and last fighter before Baba would find the last dragon ball for them.

The masked fighter requested they fight outside again. Fortuneteller Baba agreed and they went outside to the same ring they started in. The fight was brutal, with neither fighter pulling any punches. They were practically mirror images in fighting style. But in the end, Goku's one weakness, his tail, was used against him. The masked fighter smacked him against the ground over and over until his tail ripped off from the force. Goku screamed in pain and ran around, slightly off balance, but when he regained control of himself and took his fighting stance opposite the fifth fighter, he was surprised by a simple concession.

The fighter took off his mask and revealed himself to be Goku's grandpa Gohan, back from Otherworld for a day. Goku and Gohan had a heartwarming reunion, but they were interrupted when Fortuneteller Baba used her crystal ball to locate the seventh dragon ball. It was in a car heading south only 200 miles away. Gohan bid Goku farewell to return to Otherworld and Goku jumped on his flying nimbus to retrieve the final dragon ball.

"I still don't understand why this won't show where the dragon ball is," Bulma said, shaking the dragon radar in hopes such a simple action would get it to work properly. She returned the dragon radar to her pocket and put her hands on her hips as she gazed up at the sky.

"So, Bulma," Yamcha said, drawing shapes in the dust with his toe, "do you think we could talk about what happened a few days ago? It's not what you think."

"Oh, _really_?" Bulma quirked an eyebrow. "Then tell me what _did_ happen."

"What you saw, that fortuneteller at the amusement park was a thief after the dragon balls. I was holding them for Goku while he went after a couple of her cronies and she was trying to get them from me. You know how I get around girls!"

"How you get around girls? You seem to be just fine around them at school, you jerk!"

"I can't help it that they like me!"

Bulma's rational mind told her he was right. Why wouldn't all the other girls at school be interested in him? She was attracted to him first because of his cute face and amazing physique. She wouldn't be the only girl to take notice of that. Still, it was frustrating when every girl in the world seemed to be chasing after him as if he didn't have a girlfriend. She couldn't even remember how many times she had been walking alongside him and got shoved away from him by his fan club of screaming, drooling, flirting girls. It was enough to make her blood boil.

"Well," Bulma said, trying to come up with a good retort, "You don't have to encourage them! You put on that shy boy act and they eat it up!"

"But Bulma, I _am_ shy!"

"That's – that's irrelevant." Bulma crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at him. She spared him a glance and saw him pouting at her, begging for forgiveness with those big, brown eyes. She felt herself cracking. He was just too sweet and adorable, really!

"Come on, Bulma," he said, "You're the only girl for me."

"You promise?"

"Hey guys, I'm back!" They looked up and saw Goku flying down to them on the nimbus cloud. He was waving to them and Upa wasn't with him anymore. Apparently things had gone according to plan and Upa's father had been brought back to life by the eternal dragon. Strangely enough, he was wearing a different gi than he had left in.

"Hey kid, what happened to your clothes?" Bulma asked.

"Oh, that's a long story."

"I bet."

"Well, what do you say we all go back to Roshi's island?" Yamcha suggested. "It's time to start training again, don't you think Goku? And I want to ask him if he'll take me as a student."

"Alright, let's go." Bulma led the way out of Fortuneteller Baba's palace and got in their plane when Yamcha threw the capsule on the ground.

"I'll meet you guys there," Goku said. He took off on the flying nimbus and disappeared in the sky.

The plane touched down on the small, sandy beach of Master Roshi's island and they got out. Goku ran out of the house to greet them. "Hey, Roshi's not here!"

"Then I guess we'll have to wait for him," Bulma said as she hopped out of the plane. They went inside and reclined in the living room. It was a while before they heard Roshi's plane outside. Launch, Oolong, and Roshi came inside and were shocked to see everyone sitting around.

"What are you doing here?" Oolong asked. "I thought you went to the fortuneteller's place."

"We did," Goku replied. "We fought her five fighters and then she told us where the dragon ball was. I found it and took Upa back to Korin's tower and then we wished for his father to come back to life. Then we came back here. It's time to start training again."

Roshi came over and sat down. "You're right. It's time to train for the next World Martial Arts Tournament. It's in three years. But I have nothing more to teach you, Goku. You need to go out into the world and learn your lessons there."

"What do you mean you don't have anything to teach me?"

"Just go, travel! Got it?"

"Ok then."

Goku ran out of the house and called his flying nimbus, but Roshi yelled out the window, "Don't rely on that cloud to get around! You need to go on foot!"

"Huh? What? Don't use nimbus? Well, ok. I'll see you all later! Bye!" Goku jumped into the ocean and swam away.

"You mean it's going to be three years before we see Goku again?" Krillin asked.

"Yeah, looks like it," Bulma said.

"So, Master Roshi," Yamcha started, "I was wondering, you know, since you're not training Goku now, if maybe you would take me as a student?"

"Sorry, but I only take two students at a time."

"But Goku's training on his own!"

Master Roshi was unmoved. He was firm about only having two students. It wasn't that he couldn't handle training more than two, but he wanted time to himself to watch exercise videos and read magazines on the beach. Three or more students would really cut into his personal time.

"You know," Bulma said, "it really is a shame you won't take him as a student. If you did I might come visit, and your house is right by the water. I have this new bikini I've been wanting to show off…"

"Alright! I'll train you!" Roshi yelled, standing up and pointing at Yamcha.

"Thank you, Master!" Yamcha shot Bulma a look of gratitude.

"One more thing, Roshi," Bulma said. "I want you to teach me how to use ki. I might not ever be able to do that kamehameha wave thingy, but I want to at least know the basics. But if you say or do _one_ perverted thing, I will make you sorry!" Bulma turned to Yamcha and smirked. "And I want _you_ to teach me how to fight with a sword." She was going to spend the next three years training as much as she could too. She didn't have any plans to fight in the World Martial Arts Tournament with the boys, but she wasn't going to let them completely outclass her. Besides, she'd been wanting to learn about ki for years. Knowing a master of martial arts like Roshi was her perfect opportunity to learn, as long as he would keep his hands and eyes to himself.

'I can't wait! I'm finally going to learn to use my ki. And fight with a sword! This is going to be great! Maybe I can learn some new fighting techniques too. Too bad I can't stay here with the others. I still have to finish school. But as soon as I graduate I'm spending all my time here.' She nodded to herself, happy with her ability to get what she wanted from the men.

_A/N: Well, there's some major deviation from canon. Gero is dead, thanks to Bulma. If you're wondering how strong she is, I would say her current power level is probably around 50. But now she's going to get ki training, so it'll go up even more. How high? I'm not sure yet. It's irrelevant right now anyway. I'm kind of running on the assumption that my readers are all familiar with Dragonball. I'm sorry if you're not. I hope it makes enough sense anyway. I'm rushing through it and changing a lot anyway, so I guess it doesn't matter if you know it well or not._

_I'm almost finished writing chapter 42, which is the chapter you're all waiting for. So if you can suffer through a few more chapters of this kind of stuff, you will be rewarded. There's a few twists and turns before then, so get ready. I've almost reached the end of the story in chapter outlines. If all goes as planned, it will be over 70 chapters total. Can I be the first to say that's absolutely ridiculous? That's absolutely ridiculous. But here's a problem: Despite having chapters outlined, I'm having difficulty actually writing them. I'm sort of losing interest in the story. This happens when I've been writing a story for too long. I'm trying to force myself to keep writing, but the quality might be lacking. I may end up taking a break from writing this, which means I would also take a break from updating. I'll let you know if it comes to that._

_In the mean time, I would appreciate reviews about, well, everything concerning my writing. I haven't even been editing much because I'm kind of tired of this story right now. Is there anything specific I need to work on to improve the story? Anything you particularly like? Let me know. It helps a lot when I'm writing._

_Vegeta: 19  
><em>_Bulma: 17_


	33. Unwanted Protection

Unwanted Protection

Vegeta sat down at one of the long tables in the mess hall of Frieza's home base, ignoring the discomfort of sitting on the hard wood bench that threatened anyone who sat on it with the prospect of splinters. He dropped his tray of food – or what passed for food – on the table and stared at it for a moment, trying to figure out what exactly he was planning on ingesting. The largest portion of food, some sort of meat substance, jiggled like jelly. It was purple, translucent, and squishy, much like a jellyfish. He poked it with his fork several times, his lip curling as it bounced back from every assault. He pushed it aside with his fork and grunted when it wiggled back to its previous position. Maybe it was still alive. He could bet it would be chewy. 'What the hell is this shit? Must be some sort of delicacy from a new planet. Disgusting.'

The saiyan prince swallowed his revulsion and picked up the piece of meat, or whatever it was, and held it up to inspect more closely. He could see Nappa sitting down across from him, his body appearing violet and warped through the pseudo-meat. Vegeta dropped it on his tray and turned his attention to the pile of brown beans on the side. He knew from experience they were mostly flavorless at first, but left a horrendous bitter aftertaste he wasn't too fond of. On the bright side, they were packed full of nutrients his body craved. He poked a few with his fork and raised them to his mouth and forced them down.

Nappa, rather than analyzing his meal, dived right into eating it with true saiyan gusto. He had traveled more extensively through the universe than his young prince in his time and had eaten unimaginably repulsive foods. Nothing fazed him anymore, no matter how bad it looked or smelled. It wasn't as if taste and texture mattered to a saiyan anyway; their bodies could handle about anything that was edible from any planet in the known galaxies.

"Vegeta," he said, oblivious to the shower of bits of chewed up food he was giving his prince, "Did you hear that the Ginyu Force is coming to this base today?"

Vegeta grimaced and wiped the food-bits off his face with the back of his hand. "Nappa, you idiot, would you remember to fucking _swallow_ before you speak?" he snarled. "And no, I hadn't heard. What concern is it to me? They're a bunch of dancing fools."

The bald saiyan swallowed his mouthful of food and apologized. He knew apologies meant nothing to Vegeta, but it was all he could do at that point after insulting him. He ate quietly for a few more minutes, watching with some amusement as Vegeta continued prodding his food with a serious lack of enthusiasm. "I heard they've added a new member to the force. Some little guy. Supposedly has the ability to stop time."

The smaller saiyan scoffed and ate some more beans, carefully hiding his distaste for them. "As if that's possible. Don't be a fool, Nappa. They're rumors."

"I don't know, Vegeta. They say he's a weak bucket of fat with four eyes. Nothing special in the physical department. He's got to have some sort of mental abilities or else Frieza wouldn't have put him on the force." Nappa pointed to the purple blob on Vegeta's tray, still untouched. "You going to eat that?"

"No." Vegeta shoved his tray across the table and crossed his arms over his chest. His stomach was still rumbling but he couldn't lower himself to eat that so-called food. "I don't care what his abilities are."

"Oh? Is that so, monkey?"

Vegeta turned his head to see who had addressed him so disrespectfully. Inside, he felt a pang of fear, but on the outside he showed nothing other than contempt. His brows lowered and his lip curled in a sneer. Not far from him stood the Ginyu Force, Frieza's elite squadron sent on only the most dangerous missions no other soldiers could handle. Vegeta hated them. Each of them were many times stronger than him, and that was a fact they enjoyed rubbing in his face every opportunity they got. Especially the orange one, Jeice. Pretty boy that he was, what with his long white hair, thick accent, and toned, lean muscles. It made Vegeta sick. He hated the way he flaunted his "successes" with the female kind. In Vegeta's opinion, that made him nothing more than a sissy. Females were simply objects to be used for his own amusement, not to be enjoyed on a personal level. Not to _talk_ to. Vegeta shook his head to rid himself of these thoughts.

It was Captain Ginyu who had spoken to him, apparently having been listening in on his conversation with Nappa. Leave it to that old rubberneck to eavesdrop. He was the king of gossip in Frieza's army. Vegeta turned away from them and rapped his fingers on the table. Maybe if he ignored them they would go away and leave him alone. He wasn't in the mood for a brawl with them right now. More like a beat down. They didn't believe in fighting fair. Four on one – or, now that there was another member, five on one – was perfectly acceptable to them. He would be unable to defend himself against them no matter how strong he had become. While he wasn't necessarily opposed to being beaten, he simply didn't want to waste his time in a regeneration tank. Recovering from a near-death experience was by far the best way to gain strength fast, but he wanted to grow stronger by his own efforts. Through training and battling, not being humiliated at the hands of ballerina wannabes.

"Hey, monkey! What's the problem? Are you afraid?" Captain Ginyu laughed and elbowed the gigantic oaf, Recoome, who was standing next to him. The rest of the Ginyu Force joined in his boisterous laughter.

Vegeta grit his teeth. Defend his pride or continue ignoring them, letting them spread the rumor that he was afraid of them? His hands clenched into fists. He turned again and looked each of them in the eye. He wasn't afraid of them, he told himself. He would make sure they knew it. He met the glowing red eyes of Burter, the dark, calculating eyes of Captain Ginyu, the blank gaze of Recoome, the emerald green orbs of Jeice – that pansy! – and … the four eyes of someone Vegeta had never seen before. Must be the new kid on the block. More like a freak. He could hardly restrain his laughter when he saw the frog-like creature that sadly passed as an elite warrior in Frieza's army.

"Four eyes there is your newest member?" Vegeta asked. "What a joke!"

Captain Ginyu scowled at the saiyan prince. "This is Guldo, the fifth member of the elite Ginyu Force! Men, let's show him who we are!"

On Ginyu's cue, the four creatures standing around him moved into their mirroring poses and started dancing around the mess hall, kicking over tables and benches as they got in the way of their lengthy routine. Vegeta didn't bother watching them. Instead, he pulled his tray back to his side of the table and finished eating the beans and the piece of fruit. No matter how hungry he was, he was still going to avoid touching that purple mess of something.

"Burter!"

"Recoome!"

"Jeice!"

"Guldo!"

"Captain Ginyu!"

"Together we are the Ginyu Force!" they shouted in unison. Around them there were a few soldiers who clapped, unsure of whether applause should be given to the bizarre performance. Any applause given was more from fear and respect for the Ginyu Force's power and rank than for the idiotic poses they stood in at the end of their introduction.

'What a bunch of fools,' Vegeta thought, growling in irritation when he heard them approaching him from behind.

"Now what did you think of that?" Captain Ginyu asked. He was clearly proud of himself and his squadron for their rather unique dance moves. He considered himself the best choreographer in the universe.

"I think you proved you're a bunch of jackasses," Vegeta replied.

Captain Ginyu was abashed. "What? Jackasses? You wouldn't know _style_ if it kicked you in the balls!"

"Right." Vegeta stood up and strode out of the mess hall, leaving the Ginyu Force staring at his receding back. They were furious with his attitude, but Frieza had given them a warning as soon as they arrived that they were not to touch Vegeta. The saiyan had been growing too strong too fast. Having him recover from severe injuries would only make him grow in power even faster. Frieza was not going to allow that. Vegeta's ego was already out of control. Allowing him to grow strong enough to defeat his stronger warriors would only inflate his ego further. He couldn't afford to have Vegeta make foolish mistakes because of his arrogance and get himself killed in battle. He was too much of an asset in his army to lose. Besides, he rather enjoyed the company of his pet monkey.

Vegeta had many more run-ins with the Ginyu Force over the next several hours. He passed them on his way out of the training facilities and got stuck behind them in line when he went to the mess hall for the midday meal. They crossed paths when he returned to his quarters and saw them walking toward Frieza's throne room when he went to his afternoon training. They seemed to be everywhere, always traveling in a group, pushing weaker soldiers aside, throwing insults, discussing new poses, and sharing the latest gossip. Every confrontation they had with Vegeta left him more on edge. Why didn't they attack him physically? Why were they exchanging harsh words with no blows? He could see their temper rising in every passing, no doubt hardly able to restrain themselves from lashing out at him with every verbal barb he gave them. He was getting entertainment from their frustration, but he was wary around them. He could only push them so far before their disagreements turned violent.

It was growing late, the distant sun having set hours ago when Vegeta left the training facilities to return to his quarters and get some rest before rising early for another session of exercise. He was alone in the corridors, every other soldier having already retired for the night. Vegeta rose before them and stayed up later every day; he was used to it. Alone in the morning, alone at night, but he preferred it that way. He was almost to his quarters when he heard the footsteps of another person coming from the opposite direction. 'Who would be wandering the halls at this hour?'

He rounded another bend in the winding corridor and saw Guldo, the newest and most pathetic member of the Ginyu Force walking in his direction. 'Ah, that freak. Probably he's going to Frieza's throne room. He's going in that direction, anyway. Maybe he's already gotten himself kicked off the force.' A small smirk crept across his face at that thought. What could be more amusing than seeing the Ginyus humiliated?

They passed in the hallway, never making eye contact. There was already obvious hatred between them. The first moment Vegeta saw Guldo he held him in contempt; such a pathetic, cowardly excuse for a warrior should never be held in higher esteem than himself. And Guldo, he hated Vegeta for his arrogant condescension. He already knew he was a relatively weak fighter, but the things he could do with his mind more than made up for what he lacked in physical prowess.

"I can see they've lowered their recruiting standards," Vegeta hissed. He took a few more steps before he heard the witless reply.

"Hey! Watch it, Vegeta. You'd better start watching your place, you arrogant saiyan monkey. You're nothing compared to us. We make the rules around here and you follow. The only reason you're even still breathing is because Lord Frieza has taken a liking to you."

Vegeta scoffed, and without turning, casually rested his hands on his hips. "Who do you think you are? The last I checked you took orders from Frieza the same as I do. Just because Frieza's put you on the Ginyu Force, it doesn't change a thing, you'll always be a sniveling four-eyed freak."

"What? Why you insolent little –"

Vegeta turned around and looked down at the pudgy Ginyu. "Now, if I called the shots, you'd be licking my boots!"

"Ah, now you've pushed me too far!" Guldo yelled, raising his hands above his head to start gathering energy for an attack on the saiyan prince.

Vegeta took a step back, preparing to defend himself. He knew he could easily overpower the little green creature, but he wasn't willing to completely disregard what he'd heard about his mental capabilities. It was better to stay cautious than to run into a fight blindly and pay dearly for it. He was about to block the attack, but it never came. Instead, a bright beam of light rocketed through the corridor and smashed into Guldo's back, sending him flying a few yards and rolling on the floor until he came to a stop. Vegeta raised an eyebrow as he looked down the hall to see who had stopped Guldo from attacking him.

"That's enough fun and games for one day, Vegeta," Frieza said after coming into view. He was in his hovering throne, perhaps having just finished his last audience for the night. "Play time is over. I have a job for you. There's a nice little planet I've had my eye on for some time. Why don't you join me and we'll conquer it together?"

"As you command, Lord Frieza," Vegeta said, bowing. When Frieza continued on down the corridor, Vegeta turned to Guldo who was still lying face-down on the floor. "Get used to that spot, Guldo, I'll see you there again." He laughed and ran after Frieza.

As he sped through the base, Vegeta couldn't help but wonder why Frieza was going on a mission with him. It was mostly unheard of for Frieza to lower himself to purging planets with his own might. That was why he had an army. 'What did Guldo say? Frieza's taken a liking to me and that's why I'm still alive? Has Frieza given them orders not to harm me?' He growled as he caught up to Frieza.

Frieza turned to him as he ran alongside his throne. "I do not require the services of the other monkeys. Report to the hangar immediately. We will leave base in one hour."

"Yes, Lord Frieza." Vegeta turned down the corridor that led to the hangar while Frieza went in a different direction. 'Why would he suddenly decide to _protect_ me from the other soldiers? Bah! I don't want his protection! It's humiliating! Now everyone will think that I'm hiding under his wing like a coward.' He punched the wall as he ran by, denting the hard metal. 'I will not be disgraced like this!'

Vegeta ran to the hangar and boarded Frieza's ship, immediately heading for his quarters. Angry or not, he was still tired from a long day of training and taunting Ginyus. He entered the code to his room and went inside. He collapsed on the hard cot that was so familiar to him. It wasn't easy on his back, neck, or anything, really, but he was used to its lack of comfort. He didn't wake even when the ship's rocket boosters fired up and the heavy pressure of acceleration squeezed the breath out of his body. It was all familiar, all routine.

…

Yamcha ducked under the flash of metal. If he still had long hair it would have been cut off in that close call. He jumped and back-flipped over another swipe at his chest, his foot connecting with the blade and kicking it high into the air. As he landed he rolled to a safe distance away from his opponent, picking up his own sword on the way. He jumped to his feet and spun around, swinging his sword at arm's length. He pulled his sword back when he saw her jump over the blade. Before he could raise his sword to defend himself, she kicked his chin, knocking him over backward.

Bulma stretched her left arm above her head and caught her sword as it fell. She smirked at her boyfriend as he sprawled out in the sand of Master Roshi's beach. She held her hand out to Yamcha to help him to his feet. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and smiled at her.

"You're doing really well, Bulma," he told her. "I think you've mastered this. I don't think there's anything else I can teach you. Just keep practicing."

"Thanks, Yam," she said. "I've actually been working on something with my sword. Check it out." Bulma held up her sword for him to see. The afternoon sun reflected off its polished surface. Her brows furrowed as she concentrated her ki until the sword seemed to glow with its own light. She grinned. "See? I can use my ki to make it a sort of extension of my own body! Isn't it cool?"

Yamcha stared at the sword and reached out to it. Before he could touch it, her ki leaped out and burned his fingers. "Ouch! Wow, Bulma, that's really neat. I never thought of doing anything like that."

Bulma nodded. "Yeah, well, I have to think of ways to give myself an advantage. I mean, I've got the skills and everything, but I'm still never going to be as strong as the rest of you guys no matter how hard I train." She returned her sword to its sheath and rested her hands on her hips. "It's a handy trick. Maybe it'll come in useful sometime."

"Let's hope you never have to use it." Yamcha put his hand on her back and guided her into the pink shack. They sat down in the living room to rest for a while. "I can't believe the World Martial Arts Tournament is in two days. I'm going to win it this time!"

Bulma crossed her legs and laughed. "Yamcha, I think you're forgetting who else is entering the tournament. Have you forgotten about a little boy named Goku?"

Yamcha laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah, ok, so maybe I won't be able to win the championship, but I'm still going to do better than I did last year. I can't wait to see how much stronger he's gotten these past three years. I hope he's been training hard. I want a good challenge."

"Don't worry. That kid is definitely going to surprise us."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

Bulma laughed again and rested her head on Yamcha's shoulder. "Oh come on, you said yourself you want a good challenge. He'll give you one. I wish I could compete, but I wouldn't have a chance."

"I don't know, you could probably beat all the average fighters there. You might even be able to make it to the quarterfinals." Yamcha put his arm around her shoulders and held her close to him. In all honesty, he didn't really want her to compete in the tournament. He couldn't stand the idea of her getting hurt in a real fight without him there to protect her. He did believe she stood a fair chance at making it through the elimination rounds. She constantly underestimated her own strength. She forgot she was weaker than he, Krillin, Goku, and even Roshi because they were among the strongest warriors in the whole world. She was doing well to learn how to manipulate her ki and fight with a sword at her level. She was unable to get the hang of manipulating her ki into a wave like the kamehameha, but she could still use it to build her strength, and now she was able to use it with her sword, which was a technique all her own. She was a really good fighter, which he loved about her, but she was still his girlfriend and he still didn't want her fighting outside of friendly spars.

She kissed his cheek. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I think I'll pass. I fight for fun anyway, not to win competitions." She shrugged. It didn't matter if she could hold her own in the tournament or not, she didn't have much interest in fighting a bunch of big, smelly men and entering the ring in front of a huge crowd. Her satisfaction in fighting came from simple victories in spars, not from winning the adulation of hundreds of cheering fans. In any case, her interest in fighting was waning. Having completed college a year and a half earlier, starting work at Capsule Corporation and maintaining her relationship with her boyfriend had taken precedence.

"Whatever you say."

Bulma ran her hand through her cropped hair. She gave up her long hair when he kept getting in her eyes when she was fighting. She hoped to grow it out again. Short hair didn't really suit her well. It made her look like she was middle-aged, not a 20 year-old. "Where's Roshi and the others anyway? I haven't seen them all afternoon."

Yamcha looked out the window. "I think they went with Launch into town to go shopping. They'll probably be back soon."

"Hm, we have the house all to ourselves for a while, huh?" she asked. She winked at him suggestively and moved a little closer to him.

He blushed a little. "Yeah… guess so."

…

In Frieza's spaceship, it only took two weeks to reach the planet the tyrant wanted to add to his collection of worlds. Vegeta was in the throne room when the planet came into view. He saw the planet long before they got to it. He had to admit it was a large planet, if nothing else, a beautiful golden orb floating in the void of space. Other than its size and color, what was so great about it? If Vegeta knew Frieza, it was full of useful resources, perhaps a sort of metal or other mineral he could mine and use for the creation of even greater technology to further expand his intergalactic empire. Frieza would never personally purge a planet that he intended to sell in the Planet Trade. This was a sort of trophy for him. Perhaps the inhabitants were strong enough that Frieza did not want to rely on his soldiers to defeat them? That was the only explanation Vegeta could come up with, and it made him nervous. Yet his anxiety was overpowered by his excitement. Finally, he had been waiting years for a real challenge on one of his missions.

The ship touched down on the planet twenty minutes after it first became visible through the window in Frieza's throne room. Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest as he looked out the window. It seemed like forever that they were passing through tree branches clothed in golden leaves each larger than the saiyan's body. The branches themselves had a girth of over ten feet, even thicker near the trunks that were so wide he couldn't see around them from his view on the ship.

'What kind of planet is this?' he wondered when the hatch opened. A warm breeze blew in the ship, rustling his flame of hair. The wind carried a wild scent of untamed beasts, flourishing fauna, and rotten leaves on the forest floor. Frieza came up behind him, as always in his throne. Vegeta often wondered why, if the lizard was so powerful, he never left his throne aside from the times he needed greater mobility to beat someone, usually him. Whatever the reason, Frieza rode in his throne down the hatch, followed closely by Zarbon on his right and Dodoria on his left. Vegeta sneered at them. Dodoria only achieved his high status through his merciless, messy killings on purges and his betrayal of his own comrades who were stronger. He killed them when they were unguarded. Vegeta didn't pity them; they were weak fools that deserved death if they were stupid enough to trust anyone, especially someone as clearly despicable as Dodoria.

Dismissing his thoughts, Vegeta trailed after them, his eyes constantly shifting around his surroundings as he expected an attack from all angles. The ship's feet were balanced on a web of enormous roots protruding from the ground. The trees must have been ancient, hundreds or thousands of years old. There was no other way they could have grown so large. Was everything on the planet so astoundingly huge? Or was it only the trees? Did the beasts compare in size? Or the people, assuming there were any? Vegeta pushed the button on his scouter to assess the life forms of the planet. He halted, his eyes widened in surprise – and fear. The power levels were greater than he had ever seen before outside of Frieza's army. Many of them were over 30,000.

"Is something the matter, monkey?"

Vegeta looked forward and saw the small group ahead of him turned, waiting for him to catch up. It was Frieza who spoke. "No, of course not," he mumbled, racing to reach them.

Frieza laughed. "Well, that's good. I wouldn't want you to be _scared_."

The saiyan growled. Had he really let his expression slip that much? No matter, he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing his fear again. It was simple, he just wouldn't be afraid anymore. Why he had been in the first place was a good question. So what if the planet's natives were stronger? He'd fought and killed warriors stronger than himself before. These would be no different.

In front of him Frieza, Zarbon, and Dodoria continued forward with Vegeta bringing up the rear. 'Isn't anyone else going to come on this mission?' Vegeta glanced over his shoulder at the ship. The hatch was closed. There was no one else behind him. He swallowed hard and hastened his steps to keep up with the others. He wasn't scared, but he wasn't foolish enough to get separated from them in case there was an ambush. He kept his scouter on in case anyone was to move closer for an attack. He had yet to see any natives, but they had to be lurking around somewhere.

He stopped in his tracks when he thought he heard someone close by, someone whispering in a language he had never heard before. How a language could sound ancient, he didn't know, but it did. He turned to his left, but all he could see were trees, ferns, and dead leaves. He didn't continue moving for a couple minutes, waiting for whoever was there to show themselves, but no one did. Hesitantly, he kept going, running across the soft, bouncy surface of the forest floor coated in a thick layer of leaves that blew up behind him as he practically flew across the ground.

'This place is giving me the creeps. It's too quiet.' Every minute that passed made Vegeta more uneasy. Something needed to happen soon or he was going to lose his mind. He gasped when every power level on his scouter suddenly disappeared. He turned his head from the left to the right, spun around on his heel, and made sure no one was above him in the branches high above. He didn't see anyone anywhere, and now he had no way of knowing if anyone was closing in on him if his scouter couldn't pick up their energy signals.

A breeze blew up, stirring the fallen leaves around him. He jumped high in the air, thinking something was perhaps burrowing below him. Nothing appeared. He felt foolish when he landed on one of the thick branches. He could walk its length without fear of slipping off. He went until the branch forked and stopped, looking around in all directions. He could see Frieza and his faithful minions down below. He hated how relaxed they were, as if they were going for a stroll through the woods where only rabbits and songbirds would cross their path.

Thinking he heard whispering behind him, Vegeta whirled around so fast he nearly lost his footing at the fork. As before, no one was there. He ground his teeth and took a deep, calming breath. He was hearing things. Maybe it was the wind blowing through the leaves. Maybe it was small animals crawling through the branches. Maybe it was his imagination, nothing more. Whatever the case, he was tired of it. He shook his head and dropped down to the ground close behind Frieza.

That was how the first four days on the planet went. Frieza led the way, aimlessly wandering the planet, or so Vegeta suspected. He constantly heard what sounded like whispers all around him, and the power levels that his scouter first detected were nowhere to be found. It was as if there was no life on the planet. But that was impossible. Why would Frieza bring them to a deserted planet? And how would he have gotten such high readings if there was no one there? It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense. Vegeta felt like he was going insane. Even if they were ambushed by a hundred warriors with power levels of 50,000 he wouldn't care, at least something would be happening.

But then, on the fifth day, something _did_ happen. They had been walking nonstop for hours when Vegeta again thought he heard someone a few yards to his right. He stopped and peered through the forest. He backpedaled a few steps when he saw someone, finally. The face of a young girl, maybe in her early teens, peeking out at him. She had darkly tanned skin, pale blue eyes, and long, chestnut hair that flowed around her face and neck in shining waves. As soon as he saw her she disappeared behind the tree.

'Was I imagining that too?' Vegeta braced himself against the tree trunk and considered whether he should pursue the girl who may have been a figment of his imagination or run to catch up to Frieza. In the end, his curiosity won out and he ran around the base of the tree, nearly tripping over the roots several times. He never caught another glimpse of her by the time he made a complete circuit around the tree. "That's it!" he yelled. "If someone is there, come out right now!" Aside from Frieza and his men laughing, Vegeta heard nothing. He punched the trunk of the tree several times until the whole thing shook and leaves fell from their branches. "Quit mocking me! Show yourself!"

"Vegeta, do calm down," Frieza said. "You surely don't expect anyone to come out from hiding with you howling like an animal, do you?"

Vegeta snarled. "No, Lord Frieza."

"Then get over here and keep your mouth shut, monkey."

Thoroughly humiliated, Vegeta hopped over to where Frieza was waiting. "As you command, Lord Frieza."

Later that day, when the sun was slipping down through the heavens, Vegeta heard a faint giggle close behind him. He turned on his heel, but again no one was there. Nothing but a gentle breeze blew, caressing his face with the softest touch. It almost felt like five fingers stroking his cheek. 'What the hell is going on? I want off this planet! I can't stand it! Am I the only one hearing these things?'

Frieza came to an abrupt stop. "I am quite satisfied with this planet. Zarbon, Dodoria, kill everyone."

"Yes, Lord Frieza," they said, bowing.

Vegeta scoffed. How were they going to kill everyone if no one was there? He only saw one person, and that might have been a mere apparition. He was shocked when Zarbon and Dodoria took their fighting stances and a multitude of people appeared in the branches overhead. Many of them looked like the girl he had seen, with dark complexions, long, wild hair, and pale blue eyes, orbs of ice. But unlike the girl, they weren't smiling. Their faces were painted and they looked ready for battle.

"What? There's actually a group of natives here?" Vegeta breathed.

Frieza cackled. "Of course there is, Vegeta. Why else would I have come here? You mean to tell me you haven't seen them the whole time we've been here? You disappoint me."

"But – but –"

"Really, Vegeta. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that we've been surrounded since we landed."

Vegeta's hands clenched at his sides. "Of course, Lord Frieza."

"Now watch as _true_ warriors battle these cretins."

The saiyan prince sighed and turned his attention to where Zarbon and Dodoria were facing off against the natives. He was displeased with being stuck on the sidelines watching when he would rather be in the fray, even if he was outmatched in strength. It wasn't long before Vegeta found out why he hadn't been able to see anyone for days despite being constantly surrounded. They could be there one second and the next they would disappear in a small gust of wind. What a strange technique! He had never seen anything like it before.

"Incredible."

"Yes," Frieza agreed. "A fascinating ability. But it won't save them."

Vegeta watched as Dodoria struck one of the men before he could dematerialize. His body fell to the ground, either dead or unconscious. Without waiting to find out which it was, Dodoria blasted the body with a beam of ki from his gullet. The man's body slowly disintegrated into nothing. "That takes care of that one," Dodoria said, slapping the dirt off his hands.

"It's dead?" Vegeta asked.

"Yes." Frieza glanced over at Vegeta, then turned back to the fighting.

"Is this why the scouters can't detect them? They don't exist half the time."

"Correct. I'm impressed your monkey brain finally figured it out."

Vegeta's lip curled, but he said nothing. He was not going to give Frieza an excuse to beat him. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched as Zarbon and Dodoria together killed another dozen or so warriors. It almost seemed effortless on their part once they got into the swing of fighting the strange people.

The tyrant rested his chin in his hand, rather bored with what he saw. "Vegeta, my pet, why don't you go help them out? I'm sure you're itching for a good fight."

Frieza couldn't be more right. After seeing how it was possible to defeat the natives, he was trembling with excitement to try his hand in battle. Yes, they were strong. They were skillful. They could disappear without a trace and reappear anywhere only a moment later. And that made them a challenge he couldn't turn down. As soon as Frieza gave his permission, Vegeta leaped into the midst of the fighting and started striking the natives before they could see him. Once they regained their bearings, he was put on the defensive, blocking blows so fast he could barely see them before they hit.

"No! I will not be defeated!" Vegeta grabbed the wrist of one of his adversaries and spun him around, taking out the rest of them. Stunned, the man couldn't think to disappear before he was met with a blast of ki from the palm of Vegeta's hand.

Zarbon scoffed when he saw Vegeta's short tantrum. "Nice one monkey, you take care of the weaklings. Leave the real fighting to us." He drove his elbow into the throat of the man he was fighting.

"Oh shut up," Vegeta spat. He jumped into the branches to take on more fighters, not caring how strong they were or how many there were. But he didn't know what he was getting himself into. He chose the wrong warriors to battle because within a few minutes he was on the receiving end of more punches and kicks than he could count. He found himself lying on the ground, curled in the fetal position with his hands covering his head as they rained hits down on him in a blazing fury of savage intensity. "Get off me!" he screamed. "Stop it, you can't do this to me!"

"Oh, Vegeta, you pathetic little fool."

Vegeta moved his arm to see the lizard standing above him. He felt no more kicks, no more punches, nothing. He bolted up to his feet and looked around. There was a pile of bodies around him, fading into the forest. Dead. They were all dead from one swift attack from Frieza. He could hardly stand the shame. He was saved by the monster he served! He hated the lizard more in that moment than he had ever hated him before. How _dare_ he rescue him as if he were a helpless child? He could take care of himself. He didn't need someone to hold his hand through battle, no matter how high the odds were stacked against him. He would sooner die than receive a helping hand from _Frieza_ of all people.

"I can see you're not ready for this level of fighting, little monkey. I was wrong about you. What a pity." Frieza levitated off the ground and returned to his throne. "Go back to the ship where you won't get in the way, Vegeta."

"What?"

"Did I stutter? Go back to the ship!"

Vegeta stood there staring at him for a few long moments, disbelieving his order. When he realized it was no joke, Vegeta bowed. "Yes, Lord Frieza. I will return at once." He had to fight to keep his head held high as he made his retreat from the battlefield. He could hear the mocking laughter of Zarbon and Dodoria following him. His face burned with the blush that crept across his cheeks and spread to his ears. When he reached the ship the hatch was already opened for him. He hoped he wouldn't run into anyone onboard. He was just going to sneak off to his quarters for the duration of the voyage to Frieza's home base.

Two weeks passed with no one seeing hide nor tail of Vegeta on Frieza's ship. More than once Frieza considered sending for him, but he figured the saiyan was humiliated enough, stewing in his own feelings of ineptitude. Nothing he could say or do would make that humiliation greater, so he left the saiyan to himself hiding in his quarters for the entire trip to his home base. But when they landed and Vegeta still did not emerge from his room, he was forced to send Zarbon to retrieve him. Maybe enough time had passed for an effective public humiliation.

Frieza was in his throne room on base when Vegeta was dragged in, fighting against the hold Zarbon had on him with every ounce of strength he possessed. "Come now, Vegeta, be reasonable. You know you're too weak to fight Zarbon. I want to know where you've been these past two weeks." Frieza smirked at the saiyan.

Vegeta yanked his arms free from Zarbon and knelt down before Frieza. "I was aboard your ship, Lord Frieza." He swallowed. 'You know that you idiot.'

The tyrant rolled his eyes. "Obviously, monkey. But _where_ on my ship? I didn't see you once for the whole two weeks it took us to travel here."

"My private quarters, Lord Frieza."

"I see. What a drab place to spend two whole weeks." Frieza waved in dismissal. "I suppose you had to lick your wounds, as they say. Go now. I have more important matters to attend to."

As much as he hated being waved off without a second thought as if he were a lowly foot soldier, Vegeta rose and rushed out of the throne room. If that was as bad as his punishment was going to be, he would take it. His pride couldn't handle much more of this. On his way out of the throne room, however, the Ginyu Force was on the way in for an audience with Frieza.

Guldo stopped in front of Vegeta, blocking his path. "Now who's the pathetic, weakling coward, you stupid saiyan? I heard what happened on that mission. You're nothing! At least I would have been able to kill the people there."

"Now, now Guldo," Frieza said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Vegeta can't help that he is still a child. Desist your taunting. I don't want you hurting my pet's feelings."

"Of course, Lord Frieza," Guldo said.

"Get out of my way," Vegeta growled.

The short Ginyu looked up at the saiyan who was shaking with barely restrained rage. His teeth were bared, his tail was bristled, and his fists were clenched. He wanted to fight. Despite thinking he was the superior warrior, Guldo was intimidated. He stepped aside and let the saiyan prince pass without further comment. It was a small victory on Vegeta's part, but it was not nearly enough to mend his wounded honor. Protected by Frieza, again. He felt fury bubbling inside, threatening to explode. If only he could have his revenge now. Maybe then he would be able to feel better.

'You better watch yourself Guldo. I won't forget this. You'll pay when the time is right.'

_A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews. You gave me lots of encouragement and helpful critique, especially nonoreality, Sam, and Sleeping Aryll. You kind of put into words what I've been trying to figure out in my own writing. I have been trudging on with writing and I think I might be getting a second wind since I'm finally out of canon territory. It's much easier for me to write when I don't have to follow someone else's storyline (as you may have noticed in the past few chapters with Bulma - again thanks to the reviewers that pointed this out to me). So, I may be able to continue without a break, but I'm still not sure. If I do take one, it definitely won't be a year-long hiatus or anything like that, don't worry._

_You know I really can't help but think how funny it is that Vegeta lovers seem to love reading about Vegeta being tortured and stuff. There is some misery lit coming up, but it does have a point. I know sometimes it seems repetitive when Vegeta is beaten again and again because you get the point fast; he was beaten and twisted and his abuse makes him lose his conscience etc, etc. That's true, but there's more to it than that (at least in my story) and I hope you pick up on it. I hope that in this chapter you were made more aware of the very strange relationship between Frieza and Vegeta. It's something I think was hinted at in canon and I try to play it up a little in my writing._

_I know I basically skipped Bulma's training, but I honestly didn't feel like writing it and I wasn't sure how to anyway. Suffice it to say she trained with Roshi and Yamcha and got a lot stronger. She won't compete in the WMAT even though she's strong enough because she compares her strength to her friends, so she still sees herself as not strong enough. Anyway, it's been a long time since she was with Vegeta and her interest in fighting is declining._

_So I guess I admit I got a little lazy in some of these chapters. I've tried editing them, but at this point I can hardly stand to read my own writing, much less improve it. Maybe when the story's done and I've been away from it for a while I'll go back and edit them more thoroughly. I do apologize for a lack of quality. I only want to give you the best, really, but sometimes good enough is the best I can do. Maybe a beta reader would help? Maybe more than one beta reader? Anyone want to give it a go? Well, I think that's enough explaining for one chapter. Until next time, keep reviewing. Your feedback is very much helpful and appreciated!_

_Vegeta: 22  
><em>_Bulma: 20_


	34. Bitter

Bitter

The air was still. Only the buzz and hum of insects broke the heavy silence, the silence that descends when a predator draws near. The wind blew through the tall orange grass, upsetting a flock of birds with dull orange feathers that almost perfectly matched their surroundings. An eerie quiet settled over the land once more. Seconds passed, then minutes. Still nothing stirred. The only sound for miles was the wind in the grass.

He took a slow, steady step forward, making no sound, barely breathing. Close. He was so close. One more step and he would have it. One wrong move and it would be lost. Stealth was his best weapon. He unclenched his fists and raised his arms painstakingly slowly. He could practically taste it he was so close. The scent was driving him mad, his hunger pushing him ever closer. He could see it now, just an arm's length away. He reached out, ready to pounce.

A loud growl erupted behind him. His prey disappeared.

Vegeta whirled around, no longer concerned with being quiet, and punched Nappa hard in the stomach. "You idiot! One more minute and I would have had it! You fool! Can't you ever learn to control yourself?"

Nappa doubled over in pain, clutching his stomach with both hands. He groaned as he straightened and hung his head. "I'm sorry, Vegeta. I can't help it."

"That's just great. Who knows how long it'll take to find something else edible on this dump." The saiyans had been tracking that one beast for four long days. Animals on the planet were few and far between and notoriously swift. Even a saiyan couldn't catch one once it decided to run, and firing ki beams was ineffective as the animals leaped, dodged, and zig-zagged through the tall grass that reached Vegeta's shoulders and Nappa's waist.

"We could leave this planet and find food somewhere else," Raditz suggested.

Vegeta scoffed and rested his hands on his hips. "And where do you plan to find food in this dismal corner of the galaxy? Frieza's ship is closer than any planets with life on them and you know he's going to refuse us food after you buffoons botched the last purge." His tail uncoiled from his waist and twitched with his growing irritation. Nappa and Raditz were lately proving themselves to be a liability more than an asset. Nappa didn't think before he destroyed and Raditz was weak and lazy, sometimes foolishly overlooking natives rather than killing them. Vegeta turned around and fixed his coldest glare on his underlings. "I suppose if I get hungry enough I wouldn't be above cannibalism." His sharp canine flashed under his curled lip.

Nappa gulped and backed away from his prince with hands raised to shield himself from attacks. "Don't joke about that, Vegeta."

"Who's joking?" Vegeta advanced a step toward the larger saiyans. He cracked his neck from side to side and grinned devilishly. "Either of you would be more than enough for one meal." His grin faded. "Lucky for you saiyan meat is awful."

The others breathed a sigh of relief. Vegeta was more unpredictable than ever, more ruthless than Frieza's lackeys. He put them in regeneration tanks more often than the rest of Frieza's army combined. One they recovered he would make some snide remark about their power increasing some pitiful amount. They couldn't hope for salvation from their often unearned punishments from Vegeta's superiors – not that they would ever want it. Frieza got a great deal of amusement from Vegeta's short temper and his explosive behavior. If anything, he encouraged it. Neither wanted to believe Vegeta would actually resort to killing one of them for food, but they couldn't entirely convince themselves that he wouldn't. His mind was warped. His honor was gone. All he had was anger, hatred, and pride. Nothing else mattered to him other than strength. He held weaker beings, including Nappa and Raditz, in contempt. More than ever they were sure someday they would die by his hand when he finally lost all patience with their blunders.

The saiyan prince sneered at their cowardice as they kept a safe distance from him. His already foul mood was intensified by his unsatisfied hunger. His prey was scared off and he would never find it again. No, he was going to stay hungry for a long time. Bitterness gnawed at his sanity. He had to struggle with himself not to blast Nappa into the next dimension. The only thing staying his hand was his duty as prince to protect his people. Even that restraint was weakening over time. No one else in the universe cared if he was the Prince of all Saiyans, why should he? His title, the only piece of his identity he could still cling to from his life that should have been, was meaningless. He was a prince of nothing. Nothing but dead warriors and space dust. That was no kingdom. He was no prince. He was a slave. That was all he would ever be. He would never savor the sweet taste of freedom, only the bitterness of forced servitude.

"Come on," he growled. "We're not going to find anything to eat here. We might as well return to the ship." He levitated high off the ground and disappeared in the haze left over from the smoke and fires of their purge. The golden sky was a dull yellow now, ugly to look at. The atmosphere, usually filled with the stench of sulfur, was oppressive, making the saiyans nearly choke as they flew through it toward their space pods that were in the center of a leveled city.

The three saiyans climbed into their space pods and prepared for takeoff. Their purge had taken almost two weeks even without the failed hunt. There were many great warriors with powers comparable to Vegeta when he wasn't at his best, and when they ganged up on him he had a handful to deal with. They were quick and sneaky fighters with unrivaled endurance. Vegeta found the only way to defeat them was to single one out, somehow separate him from the others, and then outsmart him. A master tactician at the age of 24, Vegeta had little difficulty killing them off once he drew them away from each other. Their safety was in numbers. He realized that and used it to his advantage. He did learn some useful techniques, mostly defensive, but he learned to mimic them and put an offensive twist on them. Other than the unbridled killing, learning new moves was his favorite part of purge missions. Each civilization he crushed added to his already extensive arsenal of attacks.

'At least this mission went without a hitch and with time to spare,' Vegeta thought as his pod lifted off the ground. He wasn't trying to convince himself that their success would be rewarded or would lessen Frieza's lingering anger over the last mission. He already knew that was a lost cause. What he was counting on at the very least was no additional punishment. He pushed the button to enter stasis and fell into another dreamless sleep.

…

Bulma sighed and held onto Yamcha's arm a little tighter. She smiled at them fondly. One she hardly knew and the other was one of her very best friends, the little boy who so greatly changed her life. Well, he wasn't a little boy anymore. He had grown into a tall, handsome man, but he retained his childlike personality, love of food, and heroic attitude when faced with any dilemma. She was truly proud of him. He had grown in so many ways over the past few years. Physically, yes, but he had turned into a formidable warrior with a pure heart where he was once a boy who liked to fight for its own sake. Now he fought with a purpose. Now he was Earth's greatest hero, just as Fortuneteller Baba predicted six years earlier.

'What is wrong with this picture?' she wondered, somewhat sardonically. She looked up at Yamcha's face, his eyes glazed over with his intoxication. He'd had a few too many glasses of wine at the party. She could smell it on his breath and his feet were unsteady as they moved across the dance floor. 'Wrong?' she asked herself. 'Nothing is wrong. Everything is just like it's always been.' And that was exactly what the problem was. She rested her head on Yamcha's shoulder, no longer in the mood to dance and celebrate. Everything was the same. It was doomed to always be the same, going nowhere, never progressing, nothing. They were stuck in a rut. More like a ditch. There was no escaping it.

"Thank you so much for coming!" The young brunette bride wrapped her arms around Bulma after she broke free from Yamcha's drunken embrace. "I know we haven't had a chance to get to know each other well, but I'm sure we will."

Bulma forced a smile. "Of course, Chi-Chi. Maybe now that all this fighting nonsense is over Goku will be able to have a somewhat normal life instead of tramping across the world to do his training. Where will you be living? With your father?"

Chi-Chi shook her head. "No, my father built us a new house near where Goku grew up with his grandpa. On Mount Paozu."

"Oh, really? I'll know exactly where to find you then. That's where I first met Goku."

Even as their conversation continued Bulma's mind was elsewhere. She stole a sidelong glance at Yamcha who had taken his seat and was pouring himself another glass of wine, unconcerned with the amount he was pouring on the table as well. She sighed, unable to hold her smile any longer. She was happy for Goku and Chi-Chi, really she was. They were young and in love… well, maybe. How well did Goku even know the girl? It didn't matter, they had already tied the knot. Things would work out for them. Nothing ever went wrong, not when Goku was involved. Her, on the other hand, her life was nothing but a series of mishaps, mistakes, and regrets. What she was starting to think was her single biggest mistake was currently spilling wine on his new tuxedo. Figured. He could never keep anything nice for long.

"What about you and Yamcha?"

"Pardon?" Bulma was brought back to her conversation with Chi-Chi when she heard the name of her on-aagain-off-again boyfriend.

"Are you and Yamcha planning on getting married?"

There it was, the question Bulma hated more than any other. The question her parents, especially her mother, enjoyed asking her on a regular basis. The question she heard from Krillin, Launch, and even Roshi. The question Goku so innocently asked several years ago and hadn't brought up since after her minor emotional explosion. Why should she hate a simple question so very much? Because she didn't know the answer to it. She could answer about any other question she was ever asked. How many pounds per square inch can this material hold? How many watts of electricity would his generator produce using the newly developed fuel? What kind of signal does the dragon radar use to detect dragon balls? What does the Guardian of Earth look like? Who defeated Piccolo, Jr.? How many million zeni is left on the medical department's annual budget? She knew the answer to all these questions. Questions no other person would know right off hand. After all, she was a genius. But the one question, the question possibly more important to her than all the rest, she had no answer to. _Was_ she planning on marrying Yamcha, her teenage sweetheart?

"Not anytime soon, Chi-Chi," she answered glumly. She turned away from the newlywed, unable to bear seeing her beaming smile, the radiance that spoke of her joy. This was her wedding day, the day she was united with the man she had come to love since the first time she met him when they were young. Young. They still were. Bulma couldn't help the bitterness she felt, the resentment. Who were they to get married? They were only eighteen years old, hardly adults. She was 22, and Yamcha had turned 23 a few weeks earlier. _They_ were old enough to marry. Yet marriage didn't seem to be on the horizon. With a half-hearted well-wish, Bulma left Chi-Chi to join her never-to-be husband at their table where she could sit and sulk.

Traditionally wedding receptions were a time of feasting, dancing, drinking, and gift-giving where all the guests would celebrate the joining of a man and his wife. Bulma wanted nothing to do with it. She had a glass of wine, she picked at her food, she had a dance or two with Yamcha before he was too unsteady on his feet to bother, and she gave them a capsule with a set of the finest cookware money could buy. Chi-Chi would need it if she was going to keep her new husband fed. But Bulma wasn't celebrating. She knew it was selfish, but she could only think about her jealousy. She wanted to settle down and get married too. Ok, she didn't want to settle down so much. There were still plenty of years to have fun and exciting adventures all over the world before she settled down, but she wanted to share those adventures with a husband. Was Yamcha the man she could see herself with ten years down the road? Twenty? Fifty? She wasn't so sure. He was sweet and handsome, especially now that he had the rugged-looking scars on his face from his harsh, solitary training, but Bulma didn't think that was enough. It wasn't enough to make a successful, happy marriage anyway.

She couldn't even broach the topic of marriage with him. Not now, not ever. The last time she did made her forget ever being the one to bring it up again.

_"So, Yamcha, I've been thinking." Bulma stroked his cheek with one hand and leaned on her elbow. He turned to face her, his sweaty bangs sticking to his forehead. She gently pushed them aside._

_ "What is it, B?" he asked, wrapping one arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She felt his warm skin brushing against her own._

_ She suddenly felt shy. She couldn't ask this of him. But then again, why not? Who was he to deny her? Why would he want to? He loved her, didn't he? Besides, she always got what she wanted. She was Bulma Brief. He would be a fool to let her get away. She strengthened her resolve with a deep breath and plunged into the question she had wanted to ask him for several months now. "Are you ever going to ask me to marry you?"_

_ He froze. His brown eyes widened, then shifted away from her, unable to meet her gaze. "B, I don't think we need to talk about that right now, ok? Maybe some other time. I mean, there's no rush, right?"_

_ Bulma felt her heart sinking. "Right," she murmured._

The blue-haired woman turned her clutch purse over in her hands a few times, admiring its baby blue color that perfectly matched her dress. Finally, she stood up and excused herself to go to the powder room. She almost ran to get there, not wanting any of her friends to stop her and talk. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, breathing heavily as she tried to hold back her tears. 'What the hell kind of relationship do we have? Are we going to date forever?' She wiped away a stray tear, aggravated with herself for being so emotional and upset that she would have to fix her mascara. 'It's not fair. I want to be happy too! Why can't we just get married?' Bulma went to the mirror and set her clutch down on the counter. She didn't raise her eyes to look at herself in the mirror. She already knew she wouldn't like what she saw.

The door opened, letting in the sounds of chattering, music, and clattering dishes for a moment. The sounds were again muffled when the door shut. Bulma heard the clicking of stiletto heels on the polished marble floor, but she didn't turn to see who was behind her. She didn't care. Instead, she opened her clutch and pulled out her makeup to touch up before venturing out into the crowd of people, most of whom she had never met and didn't care to meet.

"Bulma, are you feeling alright? You looked upset."

Bulma looked up at the mirror for the first time and brushed some blush on her cheekbones. She could see a young woman with dark blue hair and big, innocent eyes standing behind her. She shrugged. "I'm fine, Launch. Go back to the party. I'm sure Tien Shinhan would like another dance."

She could see Launch blushing in the mirror as she put on another layer of lipstick. "He says he doesn't like dancing very well."

'Dumb men,' Bulma thought bitterly. She put the cap on her lipstick and dug around in her clutch for her mascara. That was really all she needed to fix anyway. She growled when she couldn't find it. "Do you have any mascara?"

"Huh? Oh, sure." Launch pulled her mascara out of her purse and handed it to Bulma.

"Thanks."

"It was a beautiful wedding, didn't you think?" Launch asked as she leaned against the counter. She looked and sounded so dreamy Bulma nearly gagged. At the moment the last thing she wanted to think about was the wedding.

"Yeah. It was great." Bulma handed Launch her mascara and primped her hair a little. "Well, what say you we go back out and enjoy ourselves?" She forced herself to smile and act cheerful. She had to for her friends' sake. This was one day where it would be horribly inappropriate to lose her temper. It wasn't about her. It was about Goku and Chi-Chi and their new life together. She had to remember that. She had to stop thinking about her and Yamcha and how they were never going to get married at the rate they were going. She would never have a family, never settle down, never… Bulma grit her teeth and shoved her hopeless thoughts from her mind. Not now. Maybe tomorrow, but not now.

What was the point of dwelling on the parts of her life that never seemed to go right? There were so many things to be happy about. Krillin, Chiaotzu, and Roshi had been brought back to life when Kami fixed the eternal dragon. She finally got to see Goku after his three years of private training with Kami. She at least had a boyfriend. Not a husband – yet – but she had a boyfriend. She was still young, beautiful, rich, brilliant, and famous. She had the best group of friends she could ever ask for. The world was no longer in peril because Goku defeated Piccolo, Jr., stopping his reign of terror before it could ever begin. In doing so Goku won the World Martial Arts Tournament after being cheated out of it in his first two appearances. The wine was good, the party was fun, and her little Goku was celebrating his marriage to a beautiful young woman with a spitfire attitude and caring heart. Bulma had a lot to be happy about. As she thought about all these things, her smile became more genuine. Life was good. Everything would turn out alright in the end. It always did.

…

Vegeta stepped out of his space pod in the ship's hangar and stretched. The trip from their purge mission wasn't too long, only five days. It was hardly worth going into stasis for that long, but sitting still for five days with nothing to do and no room to move was excruciatingly dull. On either side of the saiyan prince, Nappa and Raditz were getting out of their space pods and also stretching out their stiff muscles.

"Let's report to Frieza," Vegeta said. He crossed his arms over his chest and left the hangar with the others trailing after him.

"If we're lucky he'll let us eat," Raditz said to Nappa. The bald saiyan grunted his agreement.

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't count on that." He stopped in front of the doors to the lizard's throne room and glared at the guards. "Well? Are you going to open the damn doors or do I have to blast them down?"

The guard to Vegeta's right, a tall amphibious creature with pale yellow-green scaly skin and gills on either side of his throat frowned at the saiyan prince. He was weaker than Vegeta, but he had the authority to let soldiers in and out of the throne room when they weren't summoned by the space tyrant himself. "You'll have to wait, you saiyan monkey. Lord Frieza is meeting with someone else at the moment."

The flame-haired saiyan growled and grabbed the creature's throat and pulled him down to eye level. "You will show me respect, you miserable freak." He dug his fingers into his neck, hurting his sensitive gills.

"Ye – Yes, Vegeta, sir."

Vegeta's teeth bared as he shoved him into the wall. "Stupid fool. I should kill you." He rolled his shoulders back and stepped away from the door. "Let Frieza know that we have returned from our mission when the idiot who's in there leaves."

"That's _Lord_ Frieza to you," the guard muttered as the three saiyans strode down the corridor toward their quarters.

Vegeta heard his comment, but he didn't respond or show any sign that he heard. It wasn't worth it. He called no one Lord. He may be a slave, a soldier in the lizard's army, but he would never truly respect his master. The only respect he gave was a show for the sake of self-preservation. He disgusted himself every time he kneeled before his throne, every time he called him 'Lord' or 'Master.' He was destined to greatness, but there he was, groveling at the feet of a diminutive lizard with unfathomable power and an affinity for sadism. Vegeta reached the door to their quarters and put in the entry code. The door opened and he stepped inside. The room seemed smaller than usual, but it was only his imagination. He hadn't grown since he was fifteen. He was no larger, the room was no smaller. He was just sick of it. Sick of the hard cot, sick of the tight space, sick of the lack of privacy, sick of the smell of Nappa and Raditz. But at least it was a place where he could separate himself from the rest of Frieza's foolish soldiers. He sat down on the edge of his cot, never uncrossing his arms. He scowled at the far wall. He would wait for Frieza to summon him, then he would report their latest purge.

His stomach growled. He was famished. Because of Raditz and Nappa messing up the last purge before the one they just completed, they weren't allowed to have anything to eat on Frieza's ship until further notice. The idiots allowed a small band of the planet's inhabitants to get away in a spaceship. Not only that, but they severely marred the planet's geography, which lowered its sale value in the Planet Trade. Frieza was furious. So was Vegeta. He never asked for them to become his purge team. They were given to him when he was a boy. Now he was starting to wish they had died with the rest of his race. At least then they wouldn't cause him so many problems. It had been three and a half months since his last meal. He was starting to feel weak from lack of nourishment. That was part of the reason he had as much trouble as he did on their purge of Planet 5009VH. He was tired, hungry, and angry. Not a good combination for going into battle.

He heard Nappa and Raditz's stomachs growling as well. He didn't pity them. He didn't empathize. In his opinion, they deserved to starve. It was their fault they were all being punished anyway. As the leader of their little squadron, it was his duty to make sure things went according to plan. Even though he was on the other side of the planet slaughtering civilians when it happened, he was still held accountable for the escape of nearly a thousand natives and the destruction of one of the most glorious mountain ranges in the galaxy. He wondered why saiyans with functional brains couldn't have been spared from Vegeta-sei's destruction. Why did it have to be those fools who lived to serve him? They weren't doing an outstanding job. More than anything they got him into trouble. When _they_ did something wrong, _he_ was the one who paid for it with his own blood. The only retribution he received was a substantial boost in his power.

Power. It was all he craved, all he lived for. Gaining power was his singular purpose in life, his only goal. Power was the only guarantee that he would survive another day. He had surpassed almost every soldier in Frieza's ranks. He was among the super elites, which was one of the main reasons he was one of the few who lived on Frieza's ship, given frequent purging assignments, and his own squadron. As much as he resented Frieza's favoritism, he was willing to accept his own space pod, his own quarters on the ship (shared only with Nappa and Raditz, a major step up from the barracks the other soldiers lived in), regular meals (when he wasn't being starved as punishment), full access to all training facilities, and freedom of movement within the ship. Though he never used it, he was given permission to use the whores kept on the lowest deck of the ship, he was allowed to take showers daily, and he was almost never disciplined for fighting with or even killing lower ranking soldiers for any reason. He had become Frieza's pampered, beaten pet. But at least he was alive. And his power, it was growing.

Everyone, except perhaps the pink fool himself, knew that Vegeta had grown stronger than Dodoria over the past year. His power level was a little over 25,000 with no signs of reaching an impenetrable glass ceiling. There were no limits to his power as long as he was permitted to continue battling and training. And recovering from beatings and near-death experiences. He trained obsessively when he wasn't being sent on purges, and he forced Nappa and Raditz to train more hours than they really wanted to, insisting they grow in strength so they would be at least somewhat useful to him on their missions. Nappa's power had grown to a dismal 10,600 and Raditz was struggling to make it past 5200. Vegeta's power soared. When he was angry enough, he could push his power to over 27,000.

Not that it was ever satisfactory to him. He would never be strong enough. He would be the bastard's little plaything for life. There was no way to reach the power Frieza had. It was rumored to be in the hundreds of thousands, maybe even higher. Vegeta couldn't compete. Not unless he ascended. But he had long since given up hope on that foolish legend. That was all it was, a legend told to saiyan children to explain how their people came to live on Vegeta-sei. Sometimes he heard Nappa or Raditz thinking about how long it would take him to become the Legendary. When he did, he scoffed at their pathetic imaginations. He was not going to become a super saiyan. He was not going to be his people's savior, or at the very least their avenger. He was nothing. He would always be nothing.

He was broken out of his thoughts when he heard a knock on the door. He stood up and opened the door. One of Frieza's foot soldiers was standing there, literally shaking in his boots when he was faced with the saiyan prince's intimidating scowl.

"Vegeta, Lord Frieza has requested your presence," he stammered. A trickle of sweat ran down the side of his face and dropped off his chin. Vegeta sneered at him and shoved him aside. He started toward the throne room, soon joined by Raditz and Nappa on either side of him. When they arrived at the throne room, the doors were already open. Vegeta led the way inside and knelt before the throne of Frieza. Behind him, Nappa and Raditz also knelt.

"Back so soon?" Frieza asked. "Report."

Vegeta swallowed back his humiliation over having to respect the lizard and told him, "Yes, Lord Frieza. We completed the purge in two and a half weeks. The planet is cleared of life and ready for sale."

Frieza reclined back in his seat and frowned slightly. "And I suppose you want to be rewarded for your quick work?"

"Only if you so desire, Lord Frieza."

The tyrant huffed. "If I recall, you monkeys have not been allowed food these past three months. Am I correct?"

"Yes, Lord Frieza." To Vegeta's greater humiliation, his and the other saiyans' stomachs growled in unison, as if begging for food.

"I'll make you a deal, _prince_," Frieza said. "I will allow you and your subordinates to eat _if_ you scrub the floors of the ship. They have gotten filthy and as you know, all my servants are dead. It seems a certain _monkey_ thought they would make for good target practice." Zarbon and Dodoria, always at Frieza's side, laughed when they saw Vegeta's indignation.

'You have got to be kidding me!' Vegeta slowly, subtly shook his head. Starve or stoop to the lowest level of slavery? Either way it would kill him. At least if he chose to starve there was the chance that he would be assigned a mission where he could hunt for food. But if he chose to scrub the floors his pride would never recover. He would never live it down. Every soldier on the ship would see him. They would witness his humiliation and ridicule him. He couldn't kill _all _of them. As much as Frieza took sick pleasure in his murderous ways, he wouldn't stand for having all of his best soldiers killed because he wanted to protect his pride.

As if reading the saiyan's thoughts, Frieza continued, "I will not have any purges for you to complete for several weeks, Vegeta. The Planet Trade is not attracting any customers with sufficient funds at this time and I have all the resources I need already."

'Damnit! Why is that bastard always one fucking step ahead?'

"What do you choose, Vegeta?"

The Prince of all Saiyans, the mighty Vegeta, bowed his head before his master. His shoulders sagged as he answered, "I'll scrub the damn floors, Lord Frieza."

Frieza smirked. "Very good. Get started. Nappa and Raditz may get food from the mess hall while you're busy cleaning." What sounded like granting permission was really a veiled command. Everyone knew better than to argue. The two large saiyans immediately rose and left the throne room on the way to the mess hall, guilt weighing heavily on them. They knew what Vegeta was willingly subjecting himself to. Perhaps it was not entirely for their benefit, maybe not at all, actually, but they were the ones being rewarded through his humiliation. When they were gone, Frieza turned back to Vegeta. "I presume you know where the servant quarters are? Get a bucket of water and get started. If there's no scrub brushes, just use your tail. Go."

Vegeta stood and barely managed to lift his chin. He stalked out of the throne room, followed closely by the sounds of Frieza's laughter. He went to the lower level of the ship and found the bucket. And no scrub brush. He sighed. No doubt there had been one, but it was taken away in anticipation of this chore. He filled the bucket with ice cold water and carried it to Frieza's throne room. He heard soldiers around him snickering, laughing, swapping jokes about him finally being put in his place. His free hand clenched into a fist and a low warning growl shut many of them up. He would have his revenge on them all someday. He moved to the far corner of the throne room, squatted down, dipped his tail in the freezing water, and started scrubbing the floor. He was going to be busy for a long time. Each passing minute his stomach growled louder, his own personal slave driver.

Betrayed by his own body, made weak in his hunger, he had never felt such embarrassment. He could have survived for many more weeks, even months, without food, but he had no doubt Frieza would outwait him. Without food for so long, he would be made physically weak and vulnerable, and the other soldiers, the vultures of Frieza's ship, would rain down on him without mercy. Again, he was forced to throw aside everything that mattered to him – power, pride – for the sake of survival. And it was all because of Nappa and Raditz. Those fools. They more than Frieza were the bane of his existence. He hated them.

_A/N: I'm celebrating 100 favorites on this story! Thanks everyone!_

_ I've pretty much made a break from canon here on out. It still parallels canon, but with my twist. So hopefully that'll make things more interesting concerning Bulma. It's not my fault she had a happy, luxurious life (ok, it technically is because this is my story, but you know what I mean). Seems things are on the rocks with Bulma and Yamcha, anyway. We'll see what happens with them..._

_So Vegeta has finally gotten some discipline for killing people on Frieza's ship. Funny how Frieza cares more about his servants than his soldiers. Oh, well... anything to put Vegeta in his place. Of course it accomplishes another major goal other than humiliation involving two other saiyans... hrm. Personally, I thought this chapter was pretty good, and the next couple chapters get a lot better (in my opinion). They're also very important in Vegeta's development before meeting with Bulma again. You've made it through the long, boring part of the story, congratulations!_

_A novel is at least 50,000 words. I think I've written almost 300,000 for this story so far. I've never taken a writing class (fiction) in my life. Yet I seem to be a pretty prolific writer. Crazy. I'm working on writing chapter 43 right now. It's been kind of fun, if not confusing. Actually, I think 42 was more confusing to write. Lots going on. I can't wait to post them. Until then, review! It's been a review dry spell lately. :(_

_Vegeta: 24  
><em>_Bulma: 22_


	35. Isolation

Isolation

Bulma yawned and finished putting on her pajamas. She padded across her bedroom, her bare feet sinking into her new carpet. She slid open her balcony doors and stood there looking out. The warm summer air hugged her body, drawing her outside. The floor of the balcony was still warm from the sun's rays, though the sun had set a few hours ago. It was late. Very late. She should have been in bed at least two hours ago, but she had stayed up late working on one of her projects in her laboratory, wanting to get it done and ready for presentation in two days. If it was completely finished, then she had another whole day to test it for glitches and work out any kinks in its design. She wanted it to be flawless. A new model of generator, it was more fuel efficient than any other generator on the market, cheaper to run, and provided more power than any other in its size category. It wasn't one of her more interesting inventions, she had to admit, but she had been going to through a dry spell in her inspiration lately.

She sighed and leaned against the railing of her balcony. "Maybe it's time I take a break. I haven't gone on a vacation or anything for over two years. Hell, I haven't even seen most of my friends for that long. I haven't seen Goku and Chi-Chi, Launch, or even Roshi and Krillin. Yamcha doesn't exactly stop by too often anymore either. It's probably because of that stupid baseball career he's got now. It's ridiculous. He doesn't even like baseball that much. He likes fighting."

Bulma ran her hands through her hair and ruffled it a little. It had finally grown out to the length she liked best, halfway down her back. Yamcha said he liked it best that way too, but he was never around to admire it. She frowned at the cityscape and turned around to sit on the railing. 'I'm tired of being alone.' She rested her hands on the railing at her sides and looked up at the dim orange clouds. As much as she loved living in the city, sometimes she wanted to get away, to go have adventure like she did as a teenager. When had she gotten so old that she became tied down to work? She hardly ever left the compound.

Her father was having a new headquarters built in the city, but she insisted on staying in her laboratory in the compound where she could work in private. In that way, she was very much like Dr. Brief. He worked best alone, tinkering around in his own laboratory, working on whatever he felt like. Half his inventions he never finished. Bulma used to work with him in his lab, and sometimes she would see to it that those inventions reached completion. Now, though, she was in her own lab while he was in his, and they rarely saw each other during the day. It certainly hadn't hurt their productivity. Still, her self-imposed isolation was starting to get her down. She wanted to see her friends. She wanted to leave the compound, leave the city. She wanted to see Yamcha more, and though she was even less hopeful than ever before, she still hoped he would ask her to marry him eventually so she could start a family of her own.

"Dad even has Scratch to keep him company while he's working." Bulma realized how pathetic she must sound. Her father had a cat perched on his shoulder day in and day out, keeping him company. She didn't even have a freaking cat. No dog, not even a picture of a bird hanging on the wall. Nothing. No wonder she was lacking in creativity lately. Instead of working to come up with brilliant new ideas, her mind was focusing on her lack of companionship. She needed to get out and have some fun or she was going to lose her mind and never be a benefit to Capsule Corporation ever again.

"That's it! After the presentation on Wednesday I'm going on a vacation for a couple weeks. Maybe I can get Yamcha to go with me, and even if I can't, I'm going. I'm tired of the city. I need to get out in the world for a while."

Mind made up, Bulma went back inside and pulled the covers down on her bed. She left the balcony door open to let in the cool night air while she slept. She slid into bed and set her alarm clock to wake her up an hour later than usual. She was still going to feel like she'd been hit by a train in the morning, but at least she was giving herself a little compensation for her late night. She refused to think about how she would have been able to survive on five hours of sleep easily as a college student. It made her feel old when she compared her stamina to what it used to be back in the day. She was almost 25 years old. She was _not_ old. Lonely, yes, but not old. Maybe it was better she didn't have a cat. She didn't want anyone joking about her becoming a cat lady.

Two days passed, and as soon as Bulma was finished with her presentation on her new generator, she rushed from the conference room and raced to the residential portion of the Capsule Corporation compound. She figured it really would be nice when the new headquarters building was finished. The compound simply wasn't large enough to house all the research facilities, board meetings, and employees of the expanding company. Bulma stopped in the kitchen where her mother was preparing dinner, instantly forgetting all thoughts of work.

"Hey, Mom," Bulma greeted her as she headed for the refrigerator to get a drink.

"How did your meeting go today, dear?" Mrs. Brief asked, momentarily looking up from the food she was stirring in a frying pan.

"It was fine." Bulma grabbed a bottle of soda from the refrigerator. "You remember I'm leaving tomorrow morning for two weeks, right?"

"Of course, honey. I think it's wonderful that you're taking some time off. You've worked nearly every day for the past two years."

Bulma brushed some loose strands of hair over her shoulder. "Has it really been that long?" She frowned and tried to remember the last time she took a vacation. Other than weekends, she really hadn't had a day off in so long she couldn't remember. She enjoyed her work well enough, but that was ridiculous.

"Have you decided where you're going?"

The blue-haired woman shrugged as she opened her soda. "Not sure. Wherever the road takes me, I guess."

"I always did enjoy a nice road trip." Mrs. Brief started boiling a pot of water for the rice. "Is Yamcha going with you?"

"No." Bulma didn't feel like explaining. She took a sip of her soda and leaned against the counter, looking out the window at the sunny day. It was inviting. Since her meeting was over, she could probably go outside and sunbathe for a while. There was still an hour of afternoon left before dinner would be ready. "Let me know when food's ready. I'll be by the pool."

Soda in hand, she left the kitchen to go upstairs and change into a bikini. She knew Capsule Corporation employees would see her, but she didn't honestly care. She was the vice president. She could do what she wanted. Besides, the compound was her home, not just her workplace. They couldn't expect her to always be professional when she was there.

Bulma went into her bedroom and changed from her business suit to a blue string bikini, putting her hair up into a ponytail and donning some sunglasses to complete the look. The hot afternoon sun felt good on her skin. It seemed to soothe away the stress she'd been feeling for the past week. Work was tough. She didn't think she was really cut out for holding a steady job. She was too whimsical, too adventurous, too claustrophobic. Since realizing what her problem was Monday night, she learned she hated the confined space in her laboratory. She hated sitting at her computer typing up reports, she hated standing at a work station for hours on end, and she hated that she was expected to work five days a week even if she was the daughter of the president of the company and should have more freedoms than other workers. Deadlines, project proposals, reports, meetings, they were all a drag. That wasn't her style. She wanted to do things when she wanted, where she wanted, and how she wanted. Unfortunately, that wasn't the way the world worked.

She went to the side of the pool and sat down in one of the chairs. She put on her sunglasses and crossed her arms behind her head. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the sky was a clear blue, and there was hardly a cloud in sight. It was hot, but not humid, and she was going to enjoy it after being cooped up inside for far too long. 'Tomorrow I'm going to leave the city. Maybe I'll just go camping or something. I want to visit some of my friends, but who would I visit? I only have time for one trip. Roshi's place is the closest, and I would see him, Krillin, and Oolong. Hey, maybe Krillin's finally got a girlfriend.' She laughed, imaging Krillin standing next to a pretty girl over a head taller than him. Poor guy, he was just so short and bald. Combine that with his terrible jokes… Who would want to date that?

It was decided then. She was going to visit Master Roshi. She smiled. It had been almost three years since she had seen any of them. This year there wasn't even going to be a World Martial Arts Tournament, so that wouldn't bring all her friends together like usual. After the whole Piccolo Jr. fiasco, it was decided the WMAT might discontinue entirely. That was still being debated. In any case, it would be at least another three years before the next tournament if it happened. That was too long to wait to see her friends. Maybe she would have to arrange for them all to meet up again sometime. She mused over the idea the rest of the day and it was the last thing she thought about before going to bed later that night.

The next morning, Bulma woke up early and finished packing her suitcase. She stopped in front of her vanity and fixed her hair, made her sure makeup was perfect, and put on her jewelry. She winked at her reflection and pulled her suitcase out of her room. It thumped down the stairs behind her. Even though it was still early in her opinion, she was excited enough about leaving that she didn't feel tired. She went into the kitchen and grabbed two pieces of toast and a strip of bacon that her mother was setting on the table.

"Oh, honey, aren't you staying for breakfast?" Mrs. Brief asked.

Bulma swallowed her bite of bacon and shook her head. "Nope. I got to get going. Oh good, there's coffee made." She took a tumbler out of cupboard and filled it with coffee for her trip. "Thanks, Mom." She kissed her mother's cheek and waved as she rushed out of the kitchen. She nearly bumped into her father as he made his way into the kitchen for breakfast.

"Bulma, dear, where are you running off to?"

She chuckled and hugged him, careful not to get butter from her toast on his lab coat. "I'm going on a vacation, remember? I'll see you in a couple weeks. Bye, Daddy."

"I suppose I forgot," he muttered as he disappeared into the kitchen.

Bulma rolled her eyes with a smile and put the second piece of toast in her mouth to free her hand so she could grab her suitcase and went outside. She stopped in the driveway and pulled a capsule out of her pocket and tossed it on the ground. She opened the door of the small plane that appeared, heaved her suitcase in, and climbed into the pilot seat. It was time to get out of West City. She put her coffee in the cup holder and fired up the engine. She as barely able to rein in her excitement as she took off for Master Roshi's island, ready for a well-deserved break from Capsule Corporation.

'It's Yamcha's loss that he doesn't get to see Krillin.' She was a little hurt that Yamcha decided to stay in West City instead of going with her, but he told her he couldn't just leave in the middle of baseball season. He was the Taitans' star player and needed to be there for every game. She thought it was a silly sport he hardly enjoyed, but that didn't sway him. He was dedicated to it, if only to pay the bills. She would have gladly given him the amount of money he would be losing by taking a two week vacation, but he wouldn't accept it from her anyway. 'Oh well. We'll have to take a trip during the off season.'

The flight to Master Roshi's island took over three hours, so it was midmorning by the time she touched down on the little beach. Roshi was, as usual, sitting outside reading a girly magazine. He stood up when he saw her plane and waved his greeting. Krillin ran out of the house to see who was visiting and cheered when he saw Bulma hopping out of her jet. She capsulated it and returned it to her pocket.

"Bulma!" Krillin shouted from the door, "What brings you out here?"

"Hey, Krillin." Bulma picked up her suitcase and went inside. "I got tired of city life. I decided to take a couple weeks off. Mind if I crash here?"

Krillin grinned. "That's fine with me, but you should ask Master Roshi, not me."

She snorted. "I know _he_ won't have any problem with me staying here. He'll think of it as an opportunity to perv on me."

He laughed and took her suitcase from her. "Why don't you find Turtle? I'm sure he'd be glad to see you too. I'll take this upstairs."

"Thanks, Krillin."

When he disappeared up the flight of stairs, Bulma went to the kitchen and grabbed a soda from the refrigerator. 'Man, I need to stop drinking this crap. It's going to make me fat.' With a shrug, she opened the bottle and started drinking it. She never liked soda much before, but lately she couldn't seem to stop drinking it. At least it gave her motivation to keep up her regular exercise. When she finished her drink, she went outside and found Turtle on the other side of the island from where Roshi was sitting. She greeted him and they talked a few minutes.

"Did Yamcha come with you?" Turtle asked after a while, glancing around to see if he was there.

She frowned. "No. He'd rather play baseball."

"Is that where he is?" Bulma turned and saw Master Roshi walking around the house to join their conversation. He must have finished 'reading' his magazine.

Bulma brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear and scowled at the clear blue sky. "Yeah. He says he can't leave in the middle of baseball season. Puh-lease."

"Well, it sure was nice of you to come visit an old hermit," Roshi said, coming a little too close to her chest for her comfort. She smacked him, knocking him over. He fell face-first in the sand.

"Sometimes I wonder why I bother." Bulma couldn't contain her grin as Roshi sat up and shook the sand out of his beard. He was an old pervert, to say the least, but she had become used to his antics. Even though she had to constantly defend herself from his groping hands, he was full of wisdom and he was truly caring, a good friend to have. Besides, she had him to thank for learning how to use her ki in fighting. Not that she used that ability too often anymore. After the last World Martial Arts Tournament she had essentially given up martial arts. Not because she was discouraged by being so outclassed by all her friends, but because she simply lost interest. There were more important matters to attend to, namely helping run a huge corporation.

Roshi stood up and brushed the sand from his shirt and shorts. Another failed attempt to touch the luscious curves of his young lady friend had him disappointed, but he wasn't surprised. The day she accidentally revealed herself to him when she thought she was wearing underwear was the last time he was ever going to get anything from her. That didn't mean he would ever stop trying though. "What do you say we go inside and have a drink and catch up?"

Bulma nodded. "I'd like that."

…

Vegeta was heading for Frieza's ship after finishing another purge. He was restless. There weren't many inhabitants on the planet, and they weren't very strong. It had been several months since he last had a decent challenge on one of his assignments. He was burning with excess energy. He clenched and unclenched his fists, examining his hands as he sat in his pod. So much power coursed through his veins, pumping through every muscle fiber in his body. But it was never enough. It would take ten days to return to the ship from his current location. Ten days wasn't long, so he decided against stasis. He would be bored, but he didn't feel like dealing with the grogginess that came with stasis when it was only a short journey.

Three days passed before he received a transmission from the technicians of Frieza's ship. "Vegeta, sir, your pod is being rerouted to a planet in the next star system. Lord Frieza has received an offer from the king of a nearby planet to purchase the planet. Clear it of all sentient life forms. The landscape is to be left unmarred and the indigenous wildlife is requested to be left unharmed. The planet to purge is 8067HH."

Vegeta groaned. He hated purges where he was supposed to keep from destroying much of anything. It was difficult, time consuming, and _boring_. Aside from those setbacks, Nappa had the nasty habit of destroying everything in his path before checking to see if there were orders given not to. He saw the coordinates changing on the screen. He didn't like how the coordinates that he entered could be overridden from the lizard's ship. "How long before arrival?"

"Six weeks."

He glared at the new coordinates. He wasn't going to stay awake for six weeks even if he could. He had hoped to avoid using stasis for a while, but it looked like he didn't have a choice in the matter. With a sigh, he entered the command to enter stasis. He sank into his long slumber a few minutes later.

What felt like minutes later, Vegeta roused from his sleep and yawned. He shook his head, trying to clear the fogginess in his head. It slowly lifted. Through the porthole he could see the planet, his next destination, growing closer. It didn't look like an impressive planet from where he was, but maybe it was better from the ground view. Not that it mattered to him what it looked like. If some idiot race wanted to purchase the planet, more power to them. His job was to clear the planet of life, not critique it. Probably the idiots ruined their own planet with excessive pollution or procreation. Maybe the planet they resided on now was experiencing a drought or other natural disaster that made life difficult; maybe they used all the natural resources available and needed a new place to live in order to survive. It didn't matter what the reason was. They were willing to buy a new planet so he was going to purge one for them. He thought they were probably weakling fools if they couldn't do it themselves, but at least he had something to do.

Within ten minutes he and the other saiyans had landed on the planet in a wilderness already filled with craters. That way they couldn't be accused of ruining any of the landscape. Vegeta was the first to emerge from his space pod, and as soon as Nappa and Raditz got out of theirs he warned them not to leave a single mark on the planet aside from leaving dead bodies in their wake. "And don't you dare let any natives get away or I'll personally kill you."

"Yes, sir." Nappa and Raditz took off in opposite directions after locating the cities with their scouters. It seemed they were on another planet where everyone lived in large urban areas. There were no energy signals from anywhere but the cities. That made purges quick and easy when they didn't have to hunt down individuals living in the wilderness far from civilization.

'They'd damn well better not fuck this up,' Vegeta thought as he headed north to the nearest city. He made sure both Nappa and Raditz were aware of his impatience with their mistakes. One more and he would blast the both of them into the next dimension. He didn't care whose fault it was, he was tired of paying for their idiocy. Keeping the last two of his race alive wasn't worth the hassle anymore. If they proved themselves to be less than useful, he would kill them to rid himself of the liability. Frieza wouldn't care if he killed them anyway.

He had long since given up considering them any more valuable than anyone else in the universe. They were fools. There didn't seem to be a single brain cell between the two of them. They served him with unquestioning loyalty, but he had stopped caring. Loyal as dogs or not, they still got him into trouble. Even if they meant well, he was still ridiculed and beaten for their insolence. He resented when they tried to help him when he was injured. He wouldn't owe his life to them. They were nothing to him, nothing but pawns he used to serve his purposes. They followed his orders and if they didn't, he would discipline them like the servants they were. Nappa and Raditz meant nothing to him. He didn't care that they were saiyans. He didn't care that they were his subjects anymore. He was superior because he was stronger, not because he was royalty. Since he realized that, he had known only contempt for them and their weakness.

Rejecting Nappa and Raditz was hard on him in a way he would never admit. He was a loner. As prince, he was raised to be free of attachments. He was taught never to rely on others. He was forced into isolation from all saiyans other than his mother and father. He was brought up to be greater than the rest, to realize his superiority. He had forgotten – or at least ignored – the part where he was to use that superiority for the good of his people. In any case, he was accustomed to solitude, at least mentally. For the most part, that is. But when he broke away from the others, something in his psyche changed. It warped, twisted, broke.

The one essential part of saiyan culture he was too young to understand before he was taken away from his home planet was that saiyans were never meant to live in isolation. They were a social race. The royals were the only ones who knew any kind of solitude for the sake of being impartial when making decisions in governance between the tribes. It was this degree of solitude that made them strong leaders, objective in legislation and battle plans. But even the royals had each other. The king had his queen, and together they had children. They were surrounded by the elites, the royal guard. They did not exist in exile.

But Vegeta did.

He forced it on himself when he refused to share his mental link with Nappa or Raditz. He lived in close quarters with the both of them, but he was distant from them, guarded. It wasn't always that way. When he was younger he would share memories with them, bounce thoughts and ideas back and forth, even seek to understand their feelings. He did not enjoy being separated from them physically. Not because he depended on them for protection, but because he clung to them as the only sort of pack he would ever have. No more.

His separation made him feel cold and empty, lifeless. Instead of concerning himself with how wrong it felt, he focused instead on how much stronger he would be without attachments to the others. He couldn't care less if they suffered or died. They were nothing to him. As long as they were useful to him, he would let them live. When their usefulness wore out, he would end their existence. It was that simple. If Nappa and Raditz hadn't been able to figure out from his lack of communication that he was no longer _with_ them, they could have seen it in his eyes. There was a hardness there, something similar to the blank stare of the dead. He was unreadable, unreachable. He had shut them out along with everyone else in the universe.

Raditz and Nappa agreed that something was wrong with Vegeta. They agreed they needed to help him instead of letting him waste away in his isolation. He was practically solipsistic; at times they were sure he had lost his mind. He acted as if they nor anyone else or anything around him was real. Was he slipping into madness? It wouldn't be the first time a saiyan who chose the path of extreme solitude went insane. Exile was considered the worst punishment a saiyan could endure, worse than execution. Isolation was maddening, it was weakening, a slow, shameful death sentence. Yet, unlike exile, there was no way to bring Vegeta back to them if he chose to remain distant.

The planet purge took them three weeks. They found that the natives were formidable enemies when they used their weapons. They had advanced technology that could greatly deplete the saiyans' ki if they allowed themselves to be hit by the strange ammunition. The planet's militia was well-armed and great in number. The pockets of civilization did not make the purge any easier. It allowed for more efficient defenses to be erected around the cities. The barriers were difficult to break through, and once inside the saiyans had to deal with the ki-depleting artillery. More than once, each of the saiyans lost so much energy they nearly fell victim to the physically inferior race. This, of course, infuriated Vegeta. While never willing to accept defeat at anyone's hands, he particularly resented defeat at the hands of weaklings who relied on silly toys to protect themselves. But it was for such situations that Vegeta trained for in the darkness every morning. He trained without using ki, forcing himself to complete rigorous exercise regimens with only the strength of his muscles. This alone was what saved him from certain death during the purge.

Despite the setbacks, the purge was completed and not a single native person survived. The saiyans met back at their space pods and Vegeta contacted Frieza's technicians to inquire about their next destination, whether it be the ship or the base Frieza was scheduled to visit for several weeks.

"Head to Base 35. Frieza also sent orders that you are to collect payment from the people of planet 8065HH."

Vegeta rolled his eyes. He wasn't the errand boy. "Fine, whatever. How much do they owe?" He crossed one arm over his chest and raised his other hand to his scouter to cut the transmission once he had the necessary information.

"They are to pay twenty billion arzu."

"Copy." Vegeta pushed the button on his scouter, cutting the connection. He didn't want to hear one more word from the technician. He turned to face Raditz and Nappa. "Go on to Base 35. I have to collect payment for this piece of shit planet."

"Yes, sir."

Vegeta got into his space pod and entered the coordinates for planet 8065HH. It was in the star system so would only take a few minutes to arrive at his destination. His pod lifted off the ground and shot into the sky. The other space pods flew in the opposite direction on the way to Frieza's base two galaxies away. It was a long voyage, taking almost ten absmonths. He wasn't looking forward to going there. He didn't notice the planet he was stopping at until the computerized voice announced landfall in two minutes. He prepared himself for landing.

His pod landed several miles from the capitol city. Vegeta got out of his pod and headed for the city where he would find the head of the government who would pay for their new planet. He found it easily enough and ignored the guards that demanded identification. He wasn't in the mood to exchange 'pleasantries.' He was there to collect money and leave. He barged into the room where all the heads of state were gathered, causing an uproar among the fat cats of the planet's government. He said nothing as he strode to the center of the room and shoved aside the diplomat who had been in the middle of a long-winded speech.

"Who the hell are you?" the miffed diplomat demanded.

Vegeta scowled at him and crossed his arms over his chest. "The planet you purchased on the Planet Trade is purged. You owe Lord Frieza twenty billion arzu. Where is it?"

The people around him gaped openly. They had not expected the planet to be ready for several weeks, maybe months. They hadn't yet collected the money from their people. That was the reason for their current meeting. The king, who was sitting at an ornate desk separate from the rest of the others stood up and addressed Vegeta. "Please, sir, we haven't yet gotten the money. We were not expecting to need it so soon. Give us time."

Vegeta snarled at him and raised his hand. It started glowing with ki. "You mean to tell me that you bought a planet for which you did not have the funds? The services of the Planet Trade Organization are not free."

"Please, we only need a few more weeks—"

"You do not have weeks!" Vegeta shouted. "Pay me now or I will obliterate this fucking planet with you still on it!"

One man who was morbidly obese stood up and pointed an accusing finger at the saiyan prince. "You barbarian! You can't do this to us!"

Vegeta slowly turned his head to face the man who withered under the intensity of his glare. "I _can_ and I _will_ if you do not pay me within the hour," he hissed.

The king turned and raised his hands to bring order to the crowd. "Go and collect payment from all the people at once! We will raise the money for our new planet in an hour's time. Hurry!"

"You had better not be wasting my time," Vegeta growled. He hopped onto the king's desk and laid down with his arms crossed under his head. He closed his eyes. Though he looked relaxed, perhaps even harmless, he was alert to his surroundings. He could hear the murmurings of the men as they filed out of the room, indignant that they were being threatened by such a small man. He could smell their fear and anger. What a bunch of disgusting slobs.

He never moved a muscle for the entire hour of waiting. The last second ticked by and he opened his eyes and sat up with his legs hanging over the edge of the desk. There were few people standing in the room and a pile of money was covering a table set up near the middle of the room. He raised an eyebrow. "Count it."

The king cleared his throat and started counting the money out loud for Vegeta. The other men standing near him looked nervous. Sweat beaded on their foreheads and their hands were trembling. They had no doubt that if they hadn't gathered enough, they would soon meet their doom at the hands of a madman. Some of them were thinking it would have been better not to request a new planet from the PTO. It was like making a deal with the devil. In the end, it never paid. None of them dared try making eye contact with the saiyan. Power radiated from him, and his black eyes could bore through their very souls. Many were convinced he was a demon, come straight from the bowels of hell to destroy them.

"Seventeen million, nine hundred ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred ninety-eight…"

Vegeta had been listening to the king count the money for longer than he waited for him to collect it from his people. He was growing increasingly bored and irritated. He was tempted to take the money, hope it was the full amount, and leave. But he knew that if he collected a single pora less than the sale price of the planet, he would be torn apart for it. And so he waited.

"Eighteen million, three hundred forty-five thousand, fifty."

A deafening silence spread through the room. Vegeta's eyes narrowed as he slid off the edge of the desk. His hands clenched into fists.

"Sir, please, if we could just have more time, we could—"

Vegeta's growl cut him off. "I said one hour, did I not? I gave you one hour, and you failed. Your death, and the death of your people, is on your head."

"You could take all this and we could pay the difference at a later time—"

"Lord Frieza does not accept late payments." Vegeta blasted a hole in the ceiling and flew through it, then headed for his space pod. He opened the hatch and got in, entering the command to orbit the planet. Once his pod was in the outer atmosphere of the planet, he opened the hatch and stepped outside. He started chuckling. "Here's justice for having another race obliterated for your own selfish gain. Consider me your judge." He broke into laughter. Justice was a joke to him. He didn't believe in right and wrong. There was only death and survival. Strength and weakness. He raised his hand and fired a beam of ki at the planet, aiming for the capitol city. Seconds later the planet was space dust.

Vegeta sat down in his space pod and closed the hatch. It was time to go into stasis for a few absmonths. He entered the coordinates for Base 35 and closed his eyes when he felt his pod accelerating. The stasis gas poured into the pod, putting him to sleep.

"Landfall in two minutes."

He didn't immediately open his eyes. The first thing he noticed was his hunger. His stomach growled the instant he woke from stasis. Finally, when the computerized voice told him landfall was in one minute, he cracked his eyes open and looked out at the planet he was approaching. It was huge, at least three times larger than his home planet. No doubt the gravity would be loads of fun to adjust to. He frowned. His fingers rapped against his biceps. He felt like his stomach was trying to jump into his throat and knew he had entered the planet's gravitational field. The retrorockets fired, slowing the fall of his pod. He prepared himself for a hard landing. Even with the specially designed landing pads, the high gravity would make landing unpleasant.

His pod fell to the soft landing pad and bounced high in the air before coming to a standstill. Vegeta rubbed his head. That bounce made him hit his head on the top of his pod. He opened the hatch and climbed out of his pod. A small team of soldiers stood near the entrance. They saluted him as he stalked past. He turned in the direction of Frieza's throne room to report the last purge and lack of payment for it. He didn't have to wait to gain entry to the throne room. As soon as they saw him coming the guards at the doors opened them for him. He strode in with chin held high and knelt down in front of Frieza's throne.

"Where is the payment, Vegeta?"

"Lord Frieza, when I arrived to collect the payment the government had not yet gathered the money for planet 8067HH. I gave them an hour deadline to find the funds and they failed. I destroyed their planet as an example to those who think they can cheat you."

"You destroyed their planet? Without taking the money they had?"

Vegeta's left eye twitched. "Yes, Lord."

"Idiot." Frieza hopped out of his throne and raised Vegeta's chin with his icy fingers. Vegeta's blood ran cold when he saw the fury in his master's red eyes. "This is why you are not allowed to make important decisions, monkey. You should have taken the money they had. I could have charged them interest on the difference. I don't care if I receive payment on time. You were a fool to destroy them. What if others hear of it? Who will come to me for a planet? They'll be afraid I will have them killed."

Shoving his pride aside, Vegeta sought to save himself from punishment. "I'm sorry, Lord, I didn't think—"

"No, you didn't, did you? Your monkey brain seems incapable of such endeavors." Frieza's sharp nails dug into Vegeta's skin. Drops of blood dripped down his fingers and onto the floor.

Vegeta winced in pain. "Lord, I only wanted to see to it that others would not make the same mistake."

"Fool!" Frieza raised his other hand and curled his fingers into claws and swung at Vegeta's face. He gasped when he felt five trails of burning pain on his cheek. Blood oozed from the wounds. "I already told you I don't care if they pay on time!"

"Yes, Lord Frieza. It won't happen again." Vegeta couldn't bow his head. Frieza was still holding his chin. He wanted to hide in shame. He felt foolish. He could never do anything right by Frieza. He knew if he had accepted the money he would be punished for not taking enough. Now he was being punished for not taking any at all. Either way he couldn't win. Maybe he should have waited longer to see if they could have scraped up enough money. Too late now.

Frieza rubbed his hand against the gashes on Vegeta's cheek, smearing the blood. He moved his hand around to the back of Vegeta head and yanked his hair until Vegeta's head was tilted back painfully. His breathing quickened when he felt the cold fingers move from his chin down his throat, coming to rest on his throbbing carotid artery. The lizard leaned over until his black lips were almost pressed against Vegeta's ear. "Oh, my little pet, what am I going to do with you? Have I been too lenient in disciplining you? What made you believe you had the power to make the decision to slaughter my clients?"

Vegeta didn't answer. He swallowed hard. He felt his Adams' apple rubbing against Frieza's fingers. His mouth was dry, his tongue stuck to his palate.

"I can see beating you does no good. You're too dense to ever learn your place. You are my pet, Vegeta. You have no will. You are mine. You serve me. You live according to my will." Frieza's fingers stroked Vegeta's throat, then wrapped around it. "I could kill you for your folly. Fortunately for you, you're still useful to me. However, you will be disciplined." His hand tightened on his throat.

After what seemed like ages to the saiyan prince, Frieza released his hold on him and stepped away. He was hardly relieved. He had no idea what to expect. Apparently not a beating. Was there anything worse? He watched the tyrant sit back in his throne. Cold sweat trickled down his neck and back. He could hear his heart hammering in his chest.

Frieza motioned toward Vegeta with his left hand. "Zarbon, take him to the isolation chamber."

Vegeta almost allowed himself to relax when he saw Zarbon approach him with that smug smirk on his face. He wanted to wipe it off him, to show him he wasn't a weakling to be pushed around like the rest of Frieza's soldiers. He shoved that thought aside. What was the isolation chamber? If it was what he thought it was, it wasn't very bad punishment for him. He preferred to be alone. Was the lizard so stupid he couldn't see that? He could have laughed even as he was dragged to his feet and roughly guided out of the throne room. To his surprise, Zarbon made no comment as he pushed him through the mazelike corridors of the base. He was led up stairs, down stairs, through halls, and across bridges between buildings until he was so turned around he didn't know where he was going anymore. Eventually they reached a long, spiral staircase that went down. And down. And down. Vegeta couldn't have counted the steps if he tried. There were far too many. The deeper he went, the darker it became until it was pitch black.

They finally reached the bottom of the staircase. Zarbon directed him to the right. He knew he was in a narrow passageway from the echoes of their feet on the damp stone floor. It was cold and the air was filled with a musty, moldy odor. Vegeta scoffed quietly. He was obviously in some sort of dungeon. This wasn't severe punishment at all. He wasn't afraid of the dark. Zarbon stopped him after they walked several hundred yards. Aside from the sound of a key turning in a lock and the loud screeching creak of an ancient door opening, he was surrounded by silence. He was shoved through the door and slammed into a wall. It was cold. It was damp. He heard the door slam shut behind him and the lock turn. He heard the fading footsteps of Frieza's right-hand man as he went back the way they had come.

Now that he was alone, he wished there was some kind of light so he could see where he was. He felt around, groping in the darkness like a blind man. His left hand touched the wall perpendicular to the one he hit when he was pushed into the room. His right hand touched the wall on his right. His eyes widened. Hesitantly, he raised his right arm. He couldn't fully extend it before his hand bumped into the ceiling. He spun around and moved his left arm in front of him. It hit the door. His back was pressed against the far wall.

He felt his heart pounding in his chest, trying desperately to break free from his ribcage. He couldn't blame it. He knew how it felt. Confined to a tiny space, in total darkness. "So this is isolation," he muttered. He cringed as his voice echoed around him. It was deafening. He decided he wouldn't speak again for the duration of his stay in the isolation chamber. 'How long am I going to be here?' He could only wait and find out. He sat down on the floor, leaning against one of the side walls so he could mostly stretch out his legs. The darkness was suffocating. He felt like he couldn't breathe. He closed his eyes. He opened his eyes. There was no difference. He might have gone blind. He had no way of knowing.

He thought about breaking down the door and escaping. He shook his head. Frieza wouldn't be stupid enough to put him somewhere he could get out of. He pulled off his glove on his right hand and touched his cheek. He felt the rough scabs forming where Frieza cut his face. He sighed. Hopefully that wouldn't leave scars since he obviously wasn't getting access to a regeneration tank. He wasn't vain, but he didn't need another reminder that he was weak.

'How long will I be trapped in here?' He banged his head against the wall behind him. In only a few minutes he learned that isolation was far worse than any beating. He could practically feel his sanity slipping away.

All he could do was wait.

And wait.

And so he waited.

And waited.

He waited for minutes. Then hours. Vegeta wasn't sure how much time had passed. All he knew was that he was still engulfed in absolute darkness. Periodically, he formed a ball of ki in his hands to give himself some light. His surroundings never changed. He was in a tiny room. The walls, ceiling, and floor were all the same black stone. Water leaked through the cracks in the stone and pooled in the corners and crevices on the floor. There was a green tint where the water dripped, some kind of fungus that didn't require sunlight to thrive. It emitted a foul odor. Weak, but Vegeta's sensitive nose could easily discern it. There wasn't much else to smell anyway. He was tired and hungry. He hadn't had a bite to eat for over a year. Stasis kept him alive, but it didn't provide his body with nourishment. He only knew he had been there for a long time when he couldn't smell anymore. His olfactory was desensitized to the musty odor, the fungus, the very stone. It made him nervous to be losing the use of his senses.

The hours turned into days, but to the saiyan it was one long, never-ending night. The small space seemed to shrink over time. Every time he created light he thought the ceiling was lower. He didn't move from his seat on the floor. He didn't want to hit his head on the stone. Vegeta had lost track of time. He ran out of energy to create light. He felt so weak, so exhausted, but he wouldn't sleep until his body shut down on him. Maybe it was hours. Maybe it was days. A whole year could have passed before he sank into sleep that was just as dark as his confinement. He didn't dream. When he woke again, he still couldn't see. Had he only slept a few minutes? Or days? It was still night anyway. He wasn't sure if his eyes were open. He tried opening and closing his eyelids, but either way all he saw was black. A black that made space look bright and lively. He tried to focus on any sounds he could hear. The dripping of water into a still pool, his even breathing, his own heartbeat, his movements. But he couldn't hold his attention on any of it. Not for that long. Eventually he stopped hearing anything at all. There were no new sounds, nothing to grab his attention.

The days stretched on to weeks. He wasn't sure he was alive anymore. Perhaps he had died and he was stuck somewhere between death and the next dimension. Maybe his soul got lost on the way to the station between worlds. Maybe he had found true reality. He was beginning to think life was a dream, just his imagination running rampant up to that point. He wished his imagination wasn't so masochistic. Why couldn't he have imagined a good life? He would sometimes feel his body, rub his calloused hands over his skin. Touch was the only sense he had left. He couldn't see. He couldn't hear. He couldn't smell. He couldn't taste. All he could do was touch, and feel. Was this real? Had he only imagined the other senses before? What if he was the only real thing in the universe? Was there a universe? Was he some entity, floating through a void, purposeless, meaningless, helpless? In the beginning he had used his ki to create light, but he ran out of energy. Maybe that had been a dream too. He couldn't remember. When he could no longer create light, when his brain was desensitized to the smell of the room and his excrements and he no longer paid attention to the sound of his own breathing or his movements, when he was given nothing to eat or drink for days and weeks to taste, he pulled off his gloves, then his boots, his armor, and finally his bodysuit. He had to feel. He felt the cold stone underneath him and pressing against his back. He felt the dampness. But when his body grew accustomed to that, he resorted to touching himself, sometimes pinching his arms, slapping his legs, kicking the walls, clawing himself, biting his hands, his lip, anything. He pulled his own hair, he hit his head against the wall, he pounded his hands against the floor and walls, he crashed his fists down on his abdomen. He pulled his tail, twisted it, broke the vertebrae in it. He scratched his eyes and smacked his hands against his forehead. For a while he could smell and taste again: blood. But eventually that wore off as well and he was unsure it had ever been real, only another figment of his imagination.

His memories haunted him for the first few hours of the long night, but each day his memories faded, first turning into broken, black and white images, and then they too slipped into darkness. Black was all he could see, all he could think about. There were no images. He could feel his own form. He could move his hands over his chest and feel 12 long bumps on each side of his body. He knew he had a tail, two legs, two arms, and a head. When he wasn't sure about any particular part of his anatomy, he would beat it against the stone to make sure it was really there. When he felt pain, he knew it was real. Pain was the only real thing he could never doubt. And so he continued to hurt himself for the sake of holding onto the last shred of reality he had.

Sometimes he felt a tickle in his mind, as if something was in there trying to worm itself through his subconscious to his conscious. At first he was curious, but when it became more persistent in its attempts to invade his mind, he locked it out, put barriers around it, closed himself off to it. He didn't know what it was, and he didn't want to find out. It was strangely familiar, but something told him he didn't want anything to do with it. He couldn't think of why. It didn't matter. It might not have even been real. There was no way to know. Whatever it was, it stopped after a while. He considered himself victorious.

Then one day – or was it night? Was there such a thing as day and night to begin with? – he heard something. Or at least he thought he did. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. He wasn't sure if he was hearing or tasting anyway. Regardless, something was different. The sensation, whether it was a sound or taste, was growing in intensity. It was a steady rhythm. At least, he thought it was steady. Time stretched and compressed whimsically. Perhaps a day passed from one sensation to the next, then a millisecond. He couldn't be sure. Something was happening near his midsection. Well, it might have been at his feet. It made little difference.

There was a rush of fresh air. Vegeta inhaled deeply. It sounded salty. Then he felt. Ah, the one sense he could rely on, the one that would never fail him no matter which dimension he was in. He felt something on his shoulder. Yes, he knew for sure it was his shoulder. The touch was unexpected. It wasn't his own. He didn't feel anything on either of his hands. He wasn't touching himself. Something else was there. He howled and thrashed around on the floor.

He smelled something shouting at him. It smelled confused and angry. Then he felt again. Something struck his temple. His only sense he could trust faded and he could feel no more. Now he truly was helpless.

Vegeta tasted something different. Well, he thought he was tasting something. It had been a long time since he tasted anything, he couldn't remember what it was like. Still, something was different. It wasn't dark anymore. Not as dark, anyway. No, it was something else. He searched through his memories (or imagination, if that was what it was) and remembered what it was that he was tasting. Red.

"Vegeta? Are you awake? Open your eyes if you're awake."

The saiyan's brows furrowed. What was that sight? It was sight, wasn't it? It didn't make sense to him at first. He didn't quite understand what he was doing when he started moving something. Such a small movement. But it made a world of difference. Suddenly he tasted more than red. It was blinding. He squinted. Everything was white now. The opposite of reality. He didn't like it. It hurt. He could feel again anyway. That was a good sign. He closed his eyes. He felt something, some outside force, touching his forehead. He roared and jolted away from the touch. He felt nothing but air behind him, then his body smashed against something hard. What way was up? He felt around with his hands. His mind was reeling.

"Great, he's gone off the deep end. I think Frieza left him alone too long. I don't know if he's going to recover from this."

Frieza. Vegeta thought that was familiar. For some reason that word filled him with fear. He started to panic. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes again. Everything was blurry. He could make out the vaguest outlines of objects around him. He could taste light and dark. Only the dark was real, he reminded himself. The light things were his imagination.

"Lift him onto the bed. We need to get some fluids into his body. He's severely dehydrated and malnourished."

"Yes, sir."

"What the hell happened to him? He looks like someone's been beating him up."

Vegeta wiggled his fingers. The movement caught his attention. He looked at his hands. There was that color again. Red. He wasn't sure if he could trust red yet. He would be cautious around it for now.

"I think these are self-inflicted injuries."

"Who would do this to himself?"

"Someone who isn't aware of himself."

"So he's crazy."

"Yes."

"That is messed up."

"Start cleaning him up. I don't want to put him in a rejuvenation chamber before he's better hydrated and has some nutrients in his system. As weak as he is, the healing process might kill him right now."

Vegeta flinched away when he felt something touching him again. He growled.

"Bring me a sedative."

"Yes, sir."

Vegeta felt something else. It hurt. He tried to move away from it, but he felt so heavy, so sluggish. Everything was black again. He welcomed the blackness as it enveloped him.

He felt like he was floating. He felt warm. He didn't feel pain anymore. Another wave of panic rose in his chest. He couldn't feel pain? Pain was the only way he knew he was real. He tried to move his arms to touch himself, to hurt himself. He couldn't move his arms. They were like lead, so heavy. His heart raced. He had to get away. Away from what? He didn't know. He just had to get away. Escape. Soon he slipped into darkness again.

He didn't feel warm this time. He felt heavy. It was difficult to breathe, as if some tremendous weight was pressing against his chest. He tried to take a deep breath, but only managed to pant. Quick, shallow breaths. He felt dizzy.

"Vegeta? Can you hear me? Vegeta? Say something!"

That was a sound. He knew it was a sound. It was loud. He didn't like it. It was rough, abrasive, demanding, harsh. He frowned. The words ran through his mind, over and over they replayed until he could make sense of them. He was supposed to respond with sound. He tried to copy the sounds he heard.

"Vegeta. Can you hear me. Vegeta. Say something." His monotone voice cracked and broke from disuse.

"Very funny, Vegeta. What's wrong with you?"

"Are real?"

"Open your damn eyes and see!"

Vegeta shook his head. "See not real."

"Oh hell." Nappa turned to Raditz who was standing at his side. This was why saiyans lived in packs. This was why they traveled in groups, why they fought together, why they never left each other. "He's detached himself from this world."

_A/N: What could Nappa mean by that? I creeped myself out while I was writing this chapter. Insanity is pretty scary, in my opinion. (And I have a bachelor's in psychology? Ha.) I hope I succeeded in portraying the feelings I was trying to get across. It was hard to delve into that without making the chapter at least twice as long. Anyway, read on to find out how this isolation experience changes Vegeta! It definitely has some lasting effects on him. __Was Bulma's part boring? Good. See the contrast? Oh, poor Bulma working in her lab all day. Then there's Vegeta, who was locked in a tiny, dark cell for months with no food or water. No big deal, right?_

_I finished writing chapter 44 and 45 today and I've started 46. I'm on a roll! I just had to get through a tough patch, I guess. Hopefully this wave of creativity sticks around for a while._

_Thanks to lilpumpkingirl for beta-ing this chapter! And thanks for all the wonderful reviews on the last chapter!_

_Vegeta: 26_  
><em>Bulma: 25<em>


	36. Together Forever

_Warning: Lemony zest._

Together Forever

Vegeta wasn't the same after his isolation period. He was broken. It wasn't his pride that snapped, it wasn't his strength, his body, his memory. His mind was broken. His volatile moods, already infamous, shifted without cause quicker than his eyes. His eyes were always darting to and fro, frantically looking out for unseen attacks from unknown enemies. He was jumpy, on edge, high-strung, paranoid. Mistrustful as he was, he refused to ever be separated from people again. He didn't care who it was, though he did prefer the company of Raditz and Nappa. At least they never openly showed him hostility. Sometimes he wondered if he should trust them the least. Maybe they were respectful because they were trying to deceive him. They would turn on him and kill him one day. He found he didn't care. He was with someone.

It had taken Nappa and Raditz several weeks with him to convince him that they were real, as were his surroundings. Around him, they were careful never to make sudden moves, never make loud sounds. They tried to protect him from others. He was vulnerable. When provided nourishment, he regained his strength easily enough, but he was mentally unstable. He slept mostly when the lights were on and stayed awake when the lights were out. He would make noise through the night, keeping them awake for hours. But they weren't going to tell him to be quiet. He needed their support. It was awkward at first, as if they were babysitting a grown man. At least he kept training. That was the one sign that kept them hopeful that he would make it fully back to reality eventually. He hadn't lost his obsession. Granted, he was training in their quarters, but he was training. He almost never left the small, cramped room, even for food. They had to bring him his meals to keep him from starving. One of them always had to remain behind with him to prevent him from hurting himself to be sure he was real. He couldn't be left alone for any period of time without him relapsing into complete madness.

"Nappa, it's been months. Is he ever going to get better?" Raditz asked once Vegeta fell asleep one morning. He kept his eyes on the prince, wary of waking him up. He had always been a light sleeper, but now a pin dropping would wake him up in a terror.

The bald saiyan heaved a deep sigh and rubbed his smooth head with one hand. "I don't know. Not many saiyans ever experienced isolation like that and survived it."

Raditz felt like ripping his hair out with his frustration. There didn't seem to be anything they could do to help their prince. He was insane. That was all there was to it. Frieza finally broke him. It was irreparable. He didn't want to believe it, but after almost a year had passed and Vegeta was still acting like a frightened child, what was he supposed to think?

"He's expecting us to attack him."

"I know." Nappa cast a sidelong glance at the third-class warrior. He remembered one particular incident that made Vegeta draw that conclusion.

_Raditz opened the door to go to the mess hall for the evening meal. Vegeta had just woken up a few minutes ago. He asked Raditz not to leave, but the long-haired saiyan was tired of coddling the prince. He rounded on him with a snarl curling his lips._

_ "Why should I stay here, Vegeta?" he snapped. "I'm starving and you want me to sit here because you're afraid to be alone? Nappa's going to stay with you!"_

_ Vegeta backpedaled away from him until his back was pressed against the wall. "You kill me?"_

_ Raditz growled, more than exasperated with Vegeta's erratic behavior. It had been going on for two months straight. "I am not going to kill you! I'm just going to leave for a few fucking minutes to get something to eat and then I'll come back. Got it?"_

_ Nappa stood up from his seat on his cot and advanced on the third-class saiyan. "How dare you speak to the prince that way!" He punched him, knocking him to the floor._

_ The small saiyan clawed at his scalp. "Don't leave me! Don't leave! Kill me fine! Alone don't want!" He threw himself at Raditz, landing on his back and clinging to him with both arms and legs, desperate to feel him, to know he was there, he was real. "Don't leave!"_

Since then, at least one of them was with Vegeta every hour of every day, even when he was asleep. The last thing they wanted was for him to wake up and find himself alone. He would panic. When he panicked, he hurt himself. It was the only way he could convince himself he wasn't dead, or that what he saw was real.

Raditz shook his head. "You know what we need to do."

"What?"

"The problem is he doesn't feel really connected with anyone. He thinks he's _with_ us because we're _here_, but it's not enough." Raditz sat down on the foot of his cot. "If we somehow force him to reestablish the mental connection, he might get better."

Nappa crossed his arms over his chest. His brows furrowed as he considered what Raditz suggested. "It makes sense. But how do we force it? We tried to contact him while he was in isolation and he severed the links. Do you think they can be remade?"

Raditz shrugged. "It's worth a shot. What could it hurt? Anything has to be an improvement to this. He can't even go on purge missions. He's too unstable. You know sooner or later Frieza's going to send us on an assignment and he'll be stuck here. What would happen then? What if he kills himself?"

He had a valid point. At first Frieza thought it humorous how Vegeta had lost his mind, but when the effects of his isolation punishment lasted, he grew irritated. He wouldn't accept blame for Vegeta's mental state, instead chalking it up to Vegeta's own weakness. At the very least, he hadn't sent any of the saiyans on a purge since then despite having several dozen planets he wanted. He gave the excuse that Vegeta was incapable of successfully completing a mission, which may have been true. Nappa didn't think Frieza cared much about Vegeta, whether or not he got himself killed in battle, but he didn't want to waste time purging planets with a crew that was unfit for the job. He was actually surprised Frieza hadn't killed Vegeta. He wasn't much closer to recovery than he was months ago.

"How would we do it?"

Raditz looked over at Vegeta again, curled in the fetal position and clutching his thin blanket like a lifeline. "His mind is more open when he's asleep. Maybe if both of us try to force the link when he's asleep, he'll be unable to stop both of us. If one of us can get through, we might be able to make some progress with him."

"It doesn't seem right to invade his mind like this." Nappa rubbed his temples. He knew they didn't have much choice. They had to get Vegeta back to reality somehow. Nothing else had worked. Hell, they'd tried about everything short of sodomy.

"We have to."

"I know."

"Alright then. Let's do it."

As much as he didn't appreciate taking orders from a lower class saiyan, Nappa grunted his consent. They both closed their eyes and cleared their minds as if to meditate. Then they reached out their minds to Vegeta, searching for the old link they each shared with him. It was there somewhere, hidden, broken.

Doing so proved to be more difficult than either of them imagined. Vegeta's mind was closed off, as if he put a physical barrier around himself that nothing could penetrate. Breaking through was nearly impossible despite his shattered mental state. Sometimes it was painful to them when he would drive them out of his mind with excessive, paranoid force. They would simultaneously work to break down the wall until at least one of them could get through to him. It took a long time; hours passed before Nappa was finally able to sneak through Vegeta's defenses. By the time he did, both he and Raditz were mentally and physically exhausted, with sweat dripping from their chins to the floor and fists clenched so tight their knuckles were white. They were trembling from the effort.

"I'm in," he muttered. Vegeta was sitting only a few feet away from him, watching him warily, as if afraid if he took his eyes off him he would leave and never return. He wondered when the prince had woken up and shifted positions. He hadn't even noticed.

Raditz was lying on his cot with his arms crossed under his head, staring at the ceiling. He turned when he heard Nappa. "What?"

Nappa nodded his head toward Vegeta. "I'm in. He stopped trying to push me out."

The long-haired saiyan quirked an eyebrow. Vegeta didn't appear to be any different. He had the same terrified look in his eyes, almost unblinking as he watched his bodyguard. He hadn't moved a muscle in hours. "That's great. Is he better now?"

"Does he look better?" Nappa growled. He rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall.

"No." Raditz shrugged and stopped trying to find his way into Vegeta's mind. "Have you said anything to him?"

"Not yet."

"Maybe that would help."

Nappa stole another glance at his prince. "I don't want to alarm him. It was hard enough getting him to accept the mental link." It felt strange talking about him as if he weren't there. He rarely responded to their words and didn't seem to understand their conversations. He almost never spoke, and when he did he was often incoherent.

The mental contact proved to be of little immediate benefit to Vegeta's health. He continued periodically resisting Nappa's presence, unable to recognize what it was. He felt violated having someone else in his mind with him. He sank deeper into himself, refusing food when it was offered, sleeping less, and stopping his daily training. Then, after two weeks of maintaining constant contact, Nappa stopped feeling resistance from the prince altogether. He had been accepted. He hadn't slept for that time, afraid he would be forced from Vegeta's mind if he stopped fighting to remain there for even a minute. He sighed when he no longer had to push to keep his mental link open.

Raditz crossed his legs and started combing his hair with his fingers. Sometimes he envied Nappa for having no hair. His was always getting tangled. He spent more time grooming it than he thought he should have to. "You should probably sleep while you can. You never know, he might get scared and start pushing you out later."

"Maybe." Nappa sighed and closed his eyes. He was so tired, but he was also afraid that if he went to sleep what Raditz said might happen. He didn't want to spend another two weeks fighting to share the bond that was severed when Vegeta lost contact with reality.

"Who knows," Raditz continued, "Maybe he'll be less defensive if you give the link a break for a while."

"You have a point." Nappa pulled his blanket over himself as he lied down. "Make sure he gets his midday meal."

"I will."

"And don't try to force your way in yet. Let him get used to one of us first."

"Alright."

It didn't take long for Nappa to fall asleep. Two weeks straight without sleep was rough, even for a saiyan elite. Raditz wasn't sure, but when he heard Nappa's breathing slow he thought he saw some of the tension in Vegeta's muscles easing. Still, he didn't change position and he never took his eyes from the larger saiyan. Raditz watched him and contemplated what they would do if their mental links didn't help him. Would Frieza kill him? What would happen to himself and Nappa if that happened? Their people would never be avenged. He shook his head and turned his attention to the ceiling again. Plain as it was, it was less depressing than Vegeta. He was the prince. He shouldn't be afraid of abandonment. He shouldn't be crazy. He was always the strongest of them, both physically and mentally. What happened to him? He knew he was put in isolation for over three months, but what was it like? He wasn't inclined to find out for himself, but he wanted to know what happened so he could help Vegeta return to reality.

Nappa's breathing turned into a loud, growling snore. Raditz groaned when it started. He could leave Vegeta for a short time while Nappa was sleeping, but if he was gone too long and Nappa didn't wake up, Vegeta would probably start hurting himself. It had happened before. There was no escaping their quarters, so he would have to listen to Nappa's snoring. He couldn't even hope for the distraction of conversation since the only other person in the room was Vegeta. He had never been a great conversationalist, but he may as well have been a mime now. Raditz glanced over at Vegeta and saw the prince's eyes shift from him back to Nappa. How long had he been watching him?

Raditz frowned and continued combing his tangled hair. "I don't know if it makes you feel any better, but I doubt Frieza will put you in isolation again," he told Vegeta. He looked over and saw Vegeta's left eye twitch. Maybe he was listening. "You see what happened. He probably wasn't counting on you being out of commission for a year. I'm surprised he hasn't said anything about it yet. Stupid bastard.

"You know Nappa's been trying real hard to build a mental link with you. Guess you've noticed, huh? You can trust him. He isn't going to hurt you or anything. Who knows, maybe you'll feel better if you let us in your mind again like we used to be. Why'd you shut us out, anyway? Didn't you want someone with you when you were in isolation?"

He didn't expect an answer, and he didn't get one. When he looked over again, he did see that Vegeta's dark gaze was on him now. Maybe he didn't understand what he was saying, but he knew he was talking. That was progress, anyway. Raditz sighed. What use was there in talking to Vegeta? They'd been talking to him for months and it hadn't helped. He was frustrated. He wanted Vegeta to be the way he was before. He hadn't been mentally healthy, per se, but at least he wasn't _broken_. He was beginning to think there was no way to fix what was wrong. Something cracked when Vegeta was in isolation. He seemed to be unreachable. It was hard to hold onto any hope when he saw him acting so fearful all the time.

"We're not going to leave you, Vegeta. We'll be with you forever. Even if we had the choice to leave, we wouldn't. You're our prince. We'll serve you until the day we die." He was startled when he felt something stirring in the depths of his mind.

…

He knelt down, smiling bashfully as he looked into her beautiful cerulean eyes. He cleared his throat and mentally rehearsed his next words, the words that would change his life for better or for worse. He was horribly nervous. He could feel himself breaking out in a cold sweat. What if it was for the worse? How could he go on living? No, he couldn't think like that. There was no way she would do that to him. They had been through too much together. This had been a long time coming. He finally gathered the courage – and finances – to do it, and damnit he was going to do it. There was no backing out now. Of course, he could just tell her he dropped his keys. She would believe him, right? No, he couldn't make up such a stupid excuse. He was going to do it for real this time. He could see how hopeful she was. Her answer was in her eyes before he even spoke the question. There was nothing to be afraid of.

He took her hand in his and took a deep breath. It was now or never. He was going to do it. "Bulma, we've been together for about ten years now, and I was hoping that, maybe, you would want to make it for the rest of our lives." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box and flipped it open.

Bulma gasped when she saw the giant diamond, bending and refracting the light in a dazzling prism of color. Slowly, a grin spread across her face and tears formed in her eyes. She reached out to the diamond and almost pouted when he pulled it away from her.

He raised his eyebrow. "Does that mean yes?"

She could have laughed if she weren't so breathless. She could only nod. She watched as he pulled the ring free from its case and slipped it onto her finger. It fit perfectly. It was the most gorgeous thing she had ever seen. A marquise cut diamond in the center with ten smaller, round diamonds around it on a silver band. It was exactly what she wanted. It was the first step in making all her dreams come true. "Yamcha, I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything, B." He stood up and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her cheek, then her lips. "I love you."

She smiled and kissed him until their lips and tongues were dancing across each other. "I love you too," she whispered when they broke apart for air.

Yamcha kissed her one more time. He was relieved. He had been planning this night for weeks. He finally saved up enough money to buy her the ring. It cost almost two thousand zeni, but Bulma was worth it. As soon as he had it he made reservations at her favorite restaurant, early enough so they could go on a romantic, moonlit walk through West City Park where he would propose to her on the shores of the lake.

They stood there, their feet bare in the cool sand, gazing into each other's eyes. He could see the moonlight shimmering in her blue eyes. He thought she had never looked so beautiful before in all the years he had known her. Her cheeks were flushed and her long, wavy hair was blowing in the gentle breeze around her face. A goddess. That was the best way to describe her. Bulma Brief was his goddess. He considered himself to be the most fortunate man in the world. He had been a desert bandit in his teen years, a feared criminal of the land with only a shape-shifting cat as his companion. But somehow, he had been blessed when this woman, still a girl, had come into his life without warning. She appeared, and he thought she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. He was terrified of her. By some miracle, they came together though. Their relationship had many rough patches. They had broken up and gotten back together more times than anyone could count, but this time he promised himself he would make it work. Bulma was independent, headstrong, brilliant, and adventurous. He loved her for it, but sometimes it made getting along with her difficult. She made him feel inadequate in so many ways, but she still loved him. How could he spend the rest of his life without her, knowing he had the best thing the world had to offer? He would never give her up. She was his. He loved her, and she loved him.

"I can't wait to tell everyone," she said, then started giggling. She was overjoyed. Yamcha finally proposed to her. They were really going to get married. It was about time. She had been waiting for years for this. It didn't matter though. The wait was worth it. He was worth it.

Yamcha laughed with her, the remains of his anxiety melting away. "Your mother's going to be happy."

"Tell me about it! She's going to expect grandbabies right away."

The former bandit paled. "Kids? So soon?"

Bulma grinned and smacked his shoulder. "Hell no. There's way too much I want to do before we're tied down with a bunch of brats."

He laughed again. Secretly, he did want kids. At least two, maybe more, but he doubted that Bulma would ever want to settle down and have babies. She was too young at heart. He didn't think she would ever really grow up. She would be afraid of getting old or getting fat or something like that. Besides, she had never really shown any interest in raising a family. Sure, she wanted to get married, but did she ever want to have children? She never mentioned it to him before. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe she did want to be a mother someday. Just not yet.

"So when do you want to get married?" he asked as he started leading her toward the park entrance. It was getting late. She would want to return home soon so she could go to bed.

Bulma shrugged and leaned against him as they walked, her head resting on his shoulder. "I don't know. It's going to take a long time to plan. And I want to be sure everyone can make it."

He rubbed her back. "How long does it take to plan a wedding? You could have everyone drop whatever they were doing and run to cater to you."

"Yeah, I know, but I want to plan everything myself. That means I have to figure out what colors I want, who my bridesmaids will be, what decorations to have, where I want to have it, who to invite, what cake to get, how much food to order, where to have the reception, what music to play, where we should go on a honeymoon, the works. There's a lot of planning to do."

"You haven't thought of any of that yet?"

"Of course I've thought about it. I just never really decided. I was starting to think we weren't ever going to get married."

Yamcha felt a pang of guilt. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. "I'm sorry, B. I just wanted to be sure we were ready for it."

"I understand." Bulma put her arm around him. She wasn't going to tell him how long she had been hoping for him to propose. She wouldn't tell him how many times she cried herself to sleep at night when she realized she was still unmarried when everyone else her age was already married and starting families. She didn't have the heart to tell him how many times she considered breaking up with him for good and dating someone who would take their relationship more seriously or how often she broke down in tears because her mother asked when she could expect to have a grandbaby. To Bulma, none of that mattered anymore. What was done was done. But now she was engaged and she had a wedding to prepare for.

He kissed her head. "Well, I'll let you set the date then. I want it to be everything you've ever wanted."

"Thanks, Yam."

They walked slowly, enjoying each other's company without words. They passed a few other couples as they walked through the park, but for the most part they were alone. They finally made it to the park entrance and left. Yamcha took his hovercar capsule out of his pocket and tossed it in the air. He opened the passenger side door for Bulma and helped her in, then ran around the car and got in the driver's seat.

He drove Bulma back to Capsule Corporation and walked her to the front door. She stopped before going inside and kissed him once more. "Come over for dinner tomorrow night and we'll make the official announcement, ok?"

"Sure, B."

Bulma smiled and hugged him before turning and going inside. When the door was shut behind her, she squealed and practically ran to her bedroom. She was far too excited to sleep, so she was going to get started with planning her wedding. In the morning she would call all of her friends and invite them over for dinner. She couldn't wait to see the looks on their faces when she told them that she and Yamcha were finally, _finally_ tying the knot! Ten years. Ten long years. This was the best night of her life.

"I'm finally going to be a bride!" she sighed as she sat down at her desk and opened a notebook to write a list of friends to invite. "And we'll live happily ever after."

…

It was a sensation so familiar, so comfortable he immediately welcomed it. It was hard to believe it was true, but what else could it be? Nothing else felt quite the same. He allowed it and felt it strengthen substantially. He hadn't realized how much he missed it when it was gone. It hadn't hurt him the same way. Removing it hadn't left him empty and alone. He still had a connection with Nappa, but Vegeta hadn't had a connection with anyone.

Raditz licked his dry lips and broke eye contact with Vegeta. He was nervous. One wrong move and he might push Vegeta away for good. He would have to be careful. Let him make the first move. He felt their mental link growing until it was almost what it used to be. He still didn't feel anything from the other end. No feelings, no thoughts, nothing. It was as if Vegeta were hollow inside with nothing to give. Maybe that wasn't too far from the truth. It was disheartening. Raditz tried to push some feelings across, feelings of warmth, companionship, and trust. He wanted Vegeta to feel welcome and accepted as he probed his mind. He would let him go anywhere, bring up any memories, anything. Don't push him away. Let him reform their connection. Let him feel the connection he longed for.

_"Who are you?"_ Vegeta's voice came in a whisper, barely heard, more felt.

Raditz's heart jumped when he heard it. The last thing he expected was for Vegeta to speak to him through their link. Especially not coherently. Was it only when he spoke that he made no sense? Was his mind still able to form complete thoughts? He wondered if it was just a disconnect somewhere between Vegeta's thoughts and his speech. _"It's me, Raditz."_

_ "Raditz?"_

_ "Yes, Vegeta. Raditz. I'm sitting right here. You're looking at me." _He projected images of Vegeta watching him through the link. Vegeta would see himself from his perspective.

There was a long silence. Raditz was afraid he had scared Vegeta away when he heard Vegeta's voice again. _"If you're in my mind, you're real, aren't you?"_

_ "Yes. I'm real. So is Nappa."_

_ "Nappa?"_

_ "Him." _Raditz sent Vegeta an image of Nappa. _"He's in your mind too. Do you feel him?"_

_ "Yes."_

_ "You're not alone. We're with you. You can feel our presence." _For the first time since their mental link was created, Raditz felt something from Vegeta's side. He felt something like hope. Perhaps it was more akin to relief. He wasn't sure. It was still faint, whatever it was. But it stirred his own hope. Maybe Vegeta wasn't lost. _"Everything around you is real. You can live in this world as well as your mind."_

_ "How can I trust you?"_

Raditz felt his heart thumping in his chest. Could he get Vegeta to believe him? Could he bring Vegeta back to this world, the world outside his broken mind? _"Can you find any deception in my thoughts?" _He could sense some hesitation, then he felt a tendril of Vegeta's mentality probe his mind, weaving through his memories, his thoughts, searching through all his secrets and emotions. He had never felt so naked before in his life. He was laying himself bare before his prince, not holding anything back. Nothing would be a secret after this, but if it would help Vegeta it was worth it.

_"You're not lying. At least, not intentionally. I still don't know if I can believe you."_

_ "That's fine. I won't force you to do anything you're not comfortable doing. Take your time. Explore a little, see if what I said is true." _Raditz was hopeful. He was communicating with Vegeta for the first time since their last purge mission together. He hoped that when Nappa woke up he could talk some sense into Vegeta. Maybe his recovery wouldn't be instantaneous, but at least he was on the right path. All he wanted was for Vegeta to return to life. He had been nothing but a shell the past few months, little more than a shadow. He was silent, lifeless, and afraid. Completely alone, even in the presence of his comrades. But not anymore. Now he held them close, sharing the mental links that never should have been cut.

…

Bulma looked around the dining table at all her friends and family. It was a large table, covered in a crisp white table cloth and a bountiful feast. She insisted they use their best china and silverware for the occasion, as well as the silk napkins and servant bots. She wanted the dinner to be absolutely perfect. She reached over and grabbed Yamcha's hand in her own. She felt nervous, but in a good way. Everyone she loved was there: Goku and Chi-Chi, Tien and Chiaotzu, Launch, Master Roshi, her parents, Oolong and Puar, Krillin, and even Turtle. Everyone was there except Ox King, who had stayed at Mount Paozu to babysit Goku and Chi-Chi's son, Gohan.

She could feel her stomach twisting and turning. She looked around the table again. They were all looking at her, waiting for her to tell them why she gathered them all together. She swallowed and smiled, then looked over at Yamcha. He nodded encouragingly, so she stood up on shaky legs. He stood up with her. She took a deep breath. "Well, as you know I have an announcement to make. So I guess you're all wondering why I've asked you all to come here." She grinned. "I wanted you all to know that Yamcha has asked me to marry him."

"And she said yes," Yamcha finished. He grinned and rubbed the back of his head.

Their guests started applauding and congratulating them. Bulma was overcome with happiness as her friends hugged her, kissed her cheeks, asked for details, and admired her ring. She hardly heard a word they were saying. She felt lightheaded, elated, relieved. There was a rush of emotions battling for supremacy in her heart, and all of them were good. She met Yamcha's eyes and time seemed to stand still for them. It was official. They were engaged. They were going to be married at last. She couldn't wait.

"When's the date?"

Bulma broke out of her reverie when she heard Chi-Chi's question. When _was_ the date? That was a good question. She shrugged. "How about October 12 of next year? That should give me plenty of time to plan."

"Why October 12?" Chi-Chi asked.

"I don't know, but I like it," Bulma laughed. She raised her glass in the air. "We're getting married October 12!"

"We are?" Yamcha asked.

"That's wonderful, honey!" Mrs. Brief exclaimed.

"That seems like a long time to wait," Yamcha mumbled. Still, he wasn't going to argue with his bride-to-be. If she wanted their wedding to be on October 12, it would be on October 12.

Goku caught Bulma in a bear hug. "Isn't that right after your birthday?"

"Why, Goku, I can't believe you actually remembered," she teased him. "Yes, it is. Is there something wrong with that?"

"Nope."

"Good. Then you can put me down."

Goku lowered Bulma back to the floor and released her. He laughed when she wagged her finger at him for his behavior. Bulma tried to hold a frown, but she broke into a wide grin and laughed with him. She couldn't seem to stop herself from laughing. Everything was too good to be true. It was wonderful. She didn't want the night to end.

But, no matter what Bulma wanted, the night progressed until it was getting late. Slowly, her guests started leaving for home, giving their last congratulations on their way out the door. She thanked them all, promising to send them invitations as soon as she figured out the time and place. Once everyone had left, Bulma went upstairs to get ready for bed. She had work in the morning and wanted to get plenty of beauty sleep. She invited Yamcha to come upstairs with her.

She went into her room and pulled Yamcha into an embrace. "I can't believe we're really getting married. We're going to be together forever."

Yamcha smiled and kissed her. "No matter what."

"No matter what," she agreed. Their relationship was infamous for their disagreements, arguments, fights, and break-ups, but they were past that. They were finally ready to settle down. "Stay with me tonight?"

"If you want me to."

"I do." Bulma turned around. "Can you unzip me?"

Yamcha unzipped Bulma's dress for her. She let it slip off her shoulders and fall to the floor. He put his hands on her hips and pulled her against his body. He trailed wet kisses down her neck and shoulder.

Bulma looked at the clock on her nightstand. It was almost her bedtime. She leaned against Yamcha's chest and moaned as he moved his hands all over her body. She didn't have to worry about getting to sleep on time. He never lasted very long in bed. That was one thing she hoped to change eventually. Maybe when they were married she could spice up their sex life a little more. It wasn't that it wasn't satisfying, but she definitely thought it could be a lot better than what he regularly offered her. She dismissed those thoughts. With no one to compare him to, she couldn't make any assumptions about his performance. And what did it matter if he was the best? If she got bored with him, she could always teach him something new.

She finished undressing and went to the bed while Yamcha pulled his clothes off. He climbed on top of her and kissed her gently at first, then more forcefully. His hands gripped her hips, then moved up to her breasts. She moaned softly, urging him to continue. He positioned himself between her legs and thrust into her, earning a groan of pleasure. He was definitely the luckiest man in the world. He would have this woman for the rest of his life. She was by far the best he had ever had. Being married to her would be a dream come true.

_A/N: I do **NOT** condone premarital sex, but, unfortunately, it's likely to happen with Bulma and Yamcha. Gross, right? Either way, they're getting married! Hooray! (Or not?) On another note, it seems Vegeta is finally starting to come out of his stupor. But will it be on time, or will Frieza lose patience and kill him? You'll have to read on to see. And when are they _inevitably_ going to meet again? Hold on, my dear readers, for their reunion is in six short chapters!_

_I just finished writing chapter 48. Maybe I'm biased, but I'm telling you, there's good stuff ahead. Things are definitely going to start picking up. In the meantime, I ask of you to review! Yes, review! Every review is worth reading and I appreciate them all. I'm not exaggerating when I say they help me when I'm writing._

_Thanks, lilpumpkingirl for beta-ing!_

_Vegeta: 27  
>Bulma: 25<em>


	37. Doubts

Doubts

It had been a long, long time since they were last given a purge assignment. About two years, to be more precise. During that time, they had traveled to Frieza's base planet 35, Vegeta was put in isolation for three months, he spent a year in complete madness, and now, six months later, he was finally on the road to recovery. For the most part, he lived in reality thanks to the efforts of Nappa and Raditz, who were sure to keep their mental links with him open constantly. They guided him back to the physical world, assuring him that what was outside his mind was real and that he could trust them to stay with him and never let him know what it truly meant to be alone ever again. He was still unstable, but as long as he kept in close contact with his fellow saiyans, he could function almost normally. Normally enough, in Frieza's opinion, for him to be given a purge assignment on a medium-sized planet with a large population of weaklings. It was an easy mission, a good start for him after his mental breakdown.

To be honest, Raditz and Nappa were nervous about going on a purge mission with him. Would he slip back into insanity when he started killing? Would he kill them, himself, and blow up the entire planet, all to make sure it was real? It would do no good if they were all dead. Still, they had to trust their prince. He could usually carry on coherent, logical conversations with them without using their mental connections, and he no longer confined himself to their quarters. He would leave to train, though he still much preferred training with at least one of them, and he would journey to the mess hall for his meals, sometimes unaccompanied. He was showing great improvement. In small steps, he was almost back to what he was before experiencing isolation, at least on the outside.

There was one reason that Raditz and Nappa were both partially grateful for Vegeta's most severe, traumatizing punishment. For the past few years, he had been growing so distant they were never sure he wouldn't kill them when they inadvertently made him angry. He treated them like dirt along with the rest of Frieza's soldiers. He never allowed them to open their mental links with him, he shoved them away, refused their help, insulted them, degraded them, and adopted some of Frieza's sadism that he used against them as well as his enemies. Most of that was reversed. In some small way, he depended on them, even if he never said so. They were his grounding in an uncertain environment full of hostility and deception. They made themselves open to him, and in turn he accepted their companionship on a deeper level than he ever had before. It was almost as if they had become, after all these years, friends. Of course that was a taboo word for any saiyan to use, but that didn't mean they didn't think it.

They arrived on planet 2351XR two absmonths after leaving Frieza's base planet 98. They had been stationed there for four weeks while Frieza tended to some business in that quadrant of the galaxy. It was during that time that Frieza learned of a profitable planet for the PTO and he sent the saiyan squadron there to purge it, making it ready for sale. Before they left, he pulled Nappa aside and warned him that if the purge failed, he would not hesitate to kill Vegeta. He would not tolerate a useless soldier, no matter how highly he favored him. His warning only served to make Nappa's anxiety grow. When their pods landed on the planet, he was the first to step out and reconnoiter the surroundings for any signs of sapient life. He was followed by Raditz, and then Vegeta.

"Looks like we got 16 billion people on this planet. Might take a while to exterminate 'em all, but it won't be much of a challenge. Their power levels are low. Only a handful over 500." Nappa turned in a circle while numbers continued scrolling across the display on his scouter. "Lots o' big cities with high populations. Quite a few scattered across the country. We'll have to be careful to make sure we get 'em all."

Raditz nodded, then glanced over at Vegeta. He stood tall, but his arms were hanging at his sides, not even clenched into fists. His face was the same stoic mask he always wore, but it was his eyes that were different. They once burned with a fire of hatred, anger, pride, and power, but now they were dull, lifeless. Raditz sighed. At least they weren't frightened anymore. Would Vegeta know what to do? Had he forgotten? Would he be willing to do it?

"Frieza said we have a month to clear the planet. Not sure we'll need that long, but we shouldn't have any trouble meeting his deadline," Nappa continued. "That's good, considering." His eyes shifted over to Vegeta, who still looked almost relaxed. Not at all eager to kill, anyway. "Haven't gotten any information about weapons to look out for. So, we ought to get started."

The two large saiyans looked at Vegeta expectantly, awaiting his orders, though they weren't sure he was capable of issuing any commands quite yet. He looked back at them blankly, as if asking silently what they expected of him. The tip of his tail twitched, but he did not speak. Other than that small twitch, almost imperceptible, he did not move. Nappa frowned and drew his hand across his face. This was going to be more difficult than he thought. Getting Vegeta back into the killing mode was going to take some time, maybe some guidance, and lots of encouragement. Neither he nor Raditz could spare the time it would take to retrain their prince in the art of genocide.

"Sure would be nice if we had another person in our squadron," he muttered, rubbing his bald head.

Raditz grunted. "Yeah, but only another saiyan."

"Too bad there aren't any."

Nappa shook his head. "No. We're down to…" he stopped, as if considering how to phrase the rest of his thoughts. He continued in a whisper, so low he wasn't sure if the others could hear him. He wasn't sure he wanted them to. "Two and a half."

The third-class saiyan shifted his eyes over to Vegeta to see if there was any sort of reaction to Nappa's words. There wasn't. That cut him deeper than any physical attack could have. Vegeta didn't even care that he was being considered half a saiyan. It made his stomach twist knowing for sure that what Nappa said was true. More true than either of them wanted to admit the whole time they were preparing for their current mission. Their words of reassurance had been empty. Vegeta was still broken inside. He needed more time before he was ready for this sort of work.

"He'll get better, Nappa," he murmured. He wasn't sure if he believed himself anymore.

"He will." Nappa sounded more confident than his lower class comrade. "But he hasn't yet and we can't let Frieza know he hasn't. He'll kill him."

It didn't come as a surprise to Raditz to hear that Frieza would kill the Prince of all Saiyans if he failed this one purge mission. He was no doubt tired of waiting for Vegeta to regain his sanity. A year and a half. It was too long. If Vegeta didn't prove himself to be a worthwhile asset to Frieza's army, he would be sent to the next dimension. It was that simple. Raditz still didn't want to believe it. He knew Frieza was powerful enough to kill Vegeta. Especially when Vegeta was so _helpless_. He was as strong as ever, maybe stronger than ever before, even, but if he wouldn't so much as defend himself against attack, he had no hope of surviving. Not when Frieza chose to get serious.

"Stop wasting time. Go west. Destroy everything, kill everyone. You know the routine."

Raditz was grateful for a change that Nappa had been the general of the saiyan army before they were destroyed. When Prince Vegeta was unfit to serve as their leader, Nappa had the authority and experience to step in and take his place until further notice. He wasn't the smartest saiyan, but he had a head for battle that Raditz could respect. He nodded and levitated off the ground. He used his scouter to survey the territory to the west and bolted into the sky to begin his purging, leaving Nappa and Vegeta behind.

When Raditz was gone, Nappa turned his full attention to Vegeta. He frowned. "Vegeta, are you going to help purge or you just going to stand there all day? We got work to do."

Vegeta raised his chin to meet Nappa's gaze. His brows furrowed. "What work?"

Now was not the best time to explain to Vegeta what he meant by purge. Nappa couldn't figure out what was going on in Vegeta's mind. Surely he remembered what it meant to purge? His memory was intact, he'd seen pieces of it when they were communicating telepathically. It seemed Vegeta's forgetfulness was more voluntary than anything. Frustrated, Nappa chose to use their mental link to help Vegeta remember. He showed Vegeta killing, death, destruction, and gave him the feeling of bloodlust, power, the thrill of the hunt, adrenaline coursing through his veins, the satisfaction of victory, all that went with purging. He thought he saw a ghost of a smile on Vegeta's lips and a small predatory flicker in his onyx eyes.

_"So killing, it's what we do?"_

Nappa smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. _"Yep, and we're damn good at it. You ready to get started?"_

_ "I think so." _Vegeta looked uncertain as he slowly hovered off the ground.

_"You can do it, Vegeta. Kill every miserable life on this pathetic planet. You're the Prince of all Saiyans! They should feel honored to be killed by you!"_

The corner of Vegeta's lips turned up in a small smirk. Yes, he was the saiyan prince, wasn't he? Of course he was! And he was going to show the peons of the planet who he was and what he was capable of! Damnit, no one would ever question who he was again, no one would ever make _him_ question who and what he was. The fucking Prince of all the damn Saiyans! His smirk grew until his lip curled over the tip of his canine.

_"I'll kill them all myself, Nappa."_ He started chuckling, a low sound that was almost a growl. He didn't wait for a reply before he headed north to begin slaughtering billions of innocents.

…

It was only seven more months until October. Bulma spent more time planning her wedding than working on inventions or attending board meetings at headquarters. It was on the forefront of her mind and she didn't think anything took higher priority in her life. She already had the honeymoon booked. She was going on a month-long cruise in the Bahamas with Yamcha. She had the best fashion designers in the world working on her dress, her bridesmaids' dresses, and all the tuxedos for the groomsmen and Yamcha. Money was not an issue for her. She was going to have the most extravagant wedding the world had ever seen. It would mark the beginning of a perfect marriage. Everything would be as she always dreamed it would be. All her friends and family would attend, she would have a beautiful dress and bouquet, and her reception would be the biggest party on the planet. Her wedding would be in all over in the media, showcasing her special day. She couldn't wait.

Bulma shed her clothes and stepped into the hot bath, practically brimming over with strawberry-scented bubbles. It was exactly what she needed after another long day of phone calls, errand running, and shopping. Not that she minded the stress. It was all for a good cause. But that didn't mean it didn't leave her feeling sore, tired, and moody. Taking a relaxing bath always helped her nerves. She lowered herself into the soothing water and crossed her legs. It felt wonderful to have a minute to herself. No more running around West City trying to find the best cake baker, ribbons, and flowers. She moaned as the tension in her body eased.

'If I weren't having so much fun planning this I would almost want it to be over and done with.' She smiled and squeezed a glob of shampoo into her hands and massaged it into her scalp and through her long, aqua tresses. 'It's hard to believe I'm spending a year preparing for a half hour ceremony and a two hour party afterward.'

She wished Yamcha could be with her for most of the planning. She wanted his input on the decorations, colors, food, and dance music, but he was gone more often than not with the Taitans. She couldn't be mad at him for that. His career wasn't what she ever imagined her husband having when she was younger; it was unorthodox, brainless, and childish in her opinion. He didn't even really like baseball that much even though he was the most wanted, highest paid player in the league. Sure he was good at it. He hit a home run every time he stepped up to the plate and he never committed any errors and always caught the ball when he was in the field. He was a star athlete. At least he was doing something to earn an income. Sure, she could support a family on her salary alone, but she didn't want to be the breadwinner. She was traditional in that sense. Yes, she would continue earning millions, but she wanted her husband to contribute as well. Since Yamcha had no education higher than his GED and no work experience aside from his life as a bandit, he had no hope of ever getting a 'real' job. So baseball it was. And he excelled at it, though he would have rather been fighting.

'It's ok,' she reminded herself. 'At least he's not another boring businessman or lawyer. I don't have to worry about him letting himself go even if he's not fighting anymore. He'll keep training so he'll be a stud at least until he's 50. That's a plus.' Bulma rinsed her hair and started washing her body. 'Ugh, and speaking of training, I really should do more of that myself. I've gained a few pounds. Can't let that happen, especially not before the wedding.'

Bulma reclined in the bath until her hands resembled prunes, then got out and toweled herself off. She pulled on a silk robe and went into her bedroom and sat at her vanity. She leaned forward and inspected her face, making sure her appearance was flawless as ever. No wrinkles, no blemishes, nothing. Just perfectly smooth, ivory skin, a complexion many women would kill for. And it was all natural. She gave her reflection a dazzling smile and admired her pearly whites. Everything about her was beautiful. It wasn't conceited to think so, was it? After all, she _was_ beautiful. Drop dead gorgeous, actually.

She stood up and appraised herself in the mirror. She would have to be careful not to exercise so much she lost her luscious curves. She ran her hands over her butt, hips, and breasts. There was definitely some fat worth keeping. She loved her hourglass figure and hated that she had to cover it so often with a lab coat. "You still got it, babe," she told herself. She giggled and twirled around once. "I'm going to be the most beautiful bride in all the world."

So she never got her prince. But she did get the sweetest, most considerate guy imaginable. Yamcha was still bashful and adorable in a boyish kind of way. It was endearing. He gave her gifts just because and always put her needs before his own. Some people would say he was whipped. Bulma didn't think so. He was just treating her like he should, like a princess. She was his treasure. She frowned slightly. Was she just a trophy wife? The best of the best, soon-to-be wife of an athletic celebrity? She shook that thought from her head. It was stupid. Yamcha wanted to marry her because he loved her. He knew her before he ever became famous. He was attracted to her before he ever knew who she really was. Their love was real. It would last a lifetime.

At least, she hoped it would. Sometimes, though she tried to deny it and would never confess it to anyone, sometimes she doubted her love for Yamcha. It seemed so shallow. As if deep down, she knew she had so much more love to give, love that she didn't think Yamcha earned.

But that was crazy talk. Yamcha was the love of her life. He was the best Earth had to offer. And she would take nothing less than the best. After all, the best was what she deserved.

…

Three weeks had passed, and they were almost done with their mission. They had time to spare, though they didn't feel inclined to slow their pace. The sooner they finished, the better. No sense in pushing it close to the deadline when their lives were on the line. If this mission failed, they would pay for it in blood. They weren't willing to risk it. And so they kept working at their grueling pace, wiping out the indigenous civilization from the face of the planet. Vegeta started fast, taking out entire cities with one explosive blast of ki, but as the days progressed he slowed down as he lost interest. He started to retreat within himself again since he didn't have Raditz or Nappa at his side to see to it that he remained in the real world. Killing did give him a rush of adrenaline, a feeling of power, but he was still uncertain about _good_ feelings. He trusted the sense of touch above all else; he knew he was real, as were his thoughts and emotions, but that didn't mean they couldn't be influenced by lies, deception, facades. In fact, he associated good feelings with a lack of reality because it was only pain that he could be sure of when the rest of the universe faded around him. Only bad feelings were absolute, unquestionable.

At first Nappa and Raditz did not notice Vegeta's decline in killing. They were too absorbed in their own massacres to take note of his inactivity. But when the number of inhabitants of the planet stopped dropping dramatically from day to day, they began to suspect it was their prince who was slacking in his job.

Nappa growled with frustration when he realized what was happening – or not happening. If he had hair he would have been ripping it out. All he could do was scratch his scalp. He opened his mental link with Vegeta. _"Prince Vegeta, what are you doing? Where are you?"_

A minute passed before he received a response. That wasn't a good sign. Usually Vegeta only hesitated when he wasn't sure about answering, when he was doubting whether or not the voice in his head was real. But after the minute passed, Nappa received a mental image of a rocky landscape with sparse vegetation, roaming herds of strange animals, and a village burning in the distance. He was seeing the world through Vegeta's eyes, always a little disorienting. He closed his eyes to avoid seeing two places at once.

_"Vegeta, how many have you killed today?"_

_ "One village. I'm not sure how many people lived there." _Nappa felt a wave of guilt and self-doubt pass through the link. He groaned and sank to the ground and beat the dirt with the palms of his hands. Why was Vegeta doubting himself?

_"Keep killing, Vegeta. You have to keep killing them. Assert yourself as the saiyan prince! It will make you powerful. Power is real, Vegeta. It is the most real thing in the universe. Don't doubt yourself. And don't you dare feel guilty for taking the lives of these fools. They don't deserve to live."_

The uncertainty did not diminish with his pep talk. Nappa couldn't be sure Vegeta was going to continue killing the planet's inhabitants. That meant he and Raditz were going to have to work even faster to make sure they met the deadline. Deadline. What a poor word choice. Nappa blasted another farmhouse to the next dimension as he flew east to the next cluster of towns his scouter had picked up. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't count on Vegeta to keep purging. He couldn't count on Raditz to make up for what Vegeta wasn't doing. He simply wasn't strong and fast enough. He was a third-class warrior, though he was strong, considering.

Nappa closed the link between himself and Vegeta and opened the link he shared with Raditz. _"Vegeta's not killing many. He's likely to kill even less. He's losing his grip. We're going to have to work faster. We really could use another member in our squadron if this continues."_

_ "There's no one else to add to our squadron. You know that."_

_ "If only there were one other saiyan in the universe!"_

Raditz and Nappa continued purging their respective territories while Vegeta remained in one location. He was trying his hardest to remain in the physical world, but it was becoming difficult. He felt so distant from the other saiyans, maybe they weren't real. He hadn't seen either of them in quite a while. Maybe his memory, imagination, whatever, was playing tricks on him. Maybe the voices in his head were his own creation, and the images running through his mind were created to make the voices seem more real. This killing business, what was the point? Why was he doing it? Was he even doing it? Were the people real, or was he wasting his precious energy on a nonexistent endeavor? He couldn't be sure. It felt good to kill, but so what? It felt good to believe he was free, too, and that wasn't real.

They had one more week to finish the purge, one more week and seven billion more natives to kill. There were too many of them. They were practically covering the surface of the planet, teeming like insects, filling the cities and scattered across the countryside, in the mountains, on islands, some even underground. They were everywhere. It was slow going killing that many even though they were pathetically weak. It was meticulous work making sure every last individual was killed with each blast, making sure none were well hidden in the rubble or in the forests or mountains. People could take cover anywhere. The scouters could detect the life force of an infant with virtually no power, but it took time finding the weaker ones, and severely injured people were extremely weak. It was impossible to be too careful. The saiyans could not afford to let one native survive. That would mean they failed their mission and they would be executed for their failure.

Raditz came across another small city and started blasting it with a continuous barrage of ki beams. He didn't stop until the last building crashed to the ground, presumably marking the death of the city's entire populace. He checked his scouter to be sure. After a few minutes it hadn't found any energy signal. He would have to trust it. No one was alive there. It was time to move on.

He was beginning to think Frieza _wanted_ them to fail. He would finally have his excuse to kill the saiyans off once and for all. The saiyans, the proudest warrior race ever to roam the universe, would finally be eradicated by one sadistic, paranoid lizard. He shuddered thinking about the demise of his people at the hands of his master. He hated him. He hated that he had the power to destroy even someone as strong as Vegeta. He hated that they were defenseless against him. And he hated that he was so eager to kill them after all they had done to serve him. They completed more purge missions than any other squadron in the tyrant's army, yet he still wanted them dead because of their race. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right.

'Well fuck him. We're not going to fail. We're going to finish this purge before the deadline.' Raditz blew up another village and surrounding farms. His power surged with his anger. He hated what Frieza did to Vegeta. He hated that Frieza would kill him because of what happened to his psyche. It was his own damn fault for leaving Vegeta in isolation so long. Why punish Vegeta for suffering from his punishment? It made no sense. 'I doubt any of us will ever be powerful enough to kill that bastard, but we're not going to die by his hands. We can at least give _that_ much to our people. We'll die honorably, in battle someday. We just have to get this purge done on time. Come on, Vegeta, don't give up now. Keep killing. You have to keep killing. It's the only way to survive.'

How could he get Vegeta to kill faster? How could he motivate him? He was probably having one of his existential crises. Raditz shook his head as he landed in the middle of a small village and started firing ki balls at all the buildings until they were all leveled and the scouter showed no more life existed in the area. It was hard to think when he was feeding off the adrenaline pumping through his veins. It only made him thirst for more blood, dulling his rationality until he was bordering on acting on primal instinct.

'What will bring him back to reality? There has to be something we can do.' Raditz flew faster until his long hair whipped around in the wind. 'He loses grip on reality when he can't feel, but he has to be feeling pretty damn good with all the kills. What's wrong then?' There was really only one way to find out. He needed to talk to Vegeta and find out from the man himself.

_"Vegeta? What's going on?"_

_ "Raditz?"_

_ "Yes, it's me. What are you doing?"_

A pause. Hesitation, uncertainty, suspicion. _"Nothing."_

That was what Raditz was afraid of. He didn't want Vegeta to be doing nothing, he wanted him to be killing people. Apparently Vegeta's instability had come in to play again and he was too busy trying to reassure himself that the world was real to bother taking a role in it. He was a bystander, wondering what was real and what was illusion.

_"Why aren't you doing anything, Vegeta? Don't tell me you don't feel it."_

_ "Feel what? Feel good?"_ His voice was accompanied with distrust and anxiety. He didn't like what he was feeling. Something about it was off.

So that was the problem. Vegeta did feel, but what he was feeling was too good. In his mind, there really was such a thing as too good to be true. He was doubting it. Well, Raditz could use that to his advantage. He didn't like doing it, but it was better than letting Vegeta be killed by the lizard for an incomplete mission. _"It shouldn't all feel good. Don't you feel the shame and the humiliation? You're killing weaklings with no defense. You, the Prince of all Saiyans! There's no honor in it, but you have to do it because Frieza ordered you to. Every death is another sign of your submission to the lizard. You hate him, don't you? You hate serving him. So you should be ashamed that you're obeying him."_

He did not receive a reply from Vegeta, though the prince did not close the mental link he had opened. Through it he could still feel his misgivings. He wasn't entirely convinced, but at least he was considering what Raditz told him. Minutes passed without another word between them. The long-haired saiyan nearly forgot his conversation with Vegeta when he felt an overwhelming sense of shame and anger flood into his mind from their link. Was that what he thought it was? Not a second later his scouter picked up a power reading of 13,000 far north of his location. Vegeta was back at work. He almost smiled, but he honestly felt guilty for having to manipulate his prince's emotions like he did.

_"You were right. I feel it."_

Raditz sighed and nodded as he destroyed two close villages, one blast from each hand. _"You see? Good doesn't mean not real. It's bittersweet, I guess. Bad is just the flip side of good. You can feel either in any case. It depends on what you _want_ to feel."_

_ "Good is real."_

_ "Yes."_

_ "I'm not sure…"_

_"You'll figure out what I mean. For now, keep killing these pathetic people."_

He didn't feel entirely sure that Vegeta would keep up the work without him essentially holding his hand, but Raditz closed their mental link anyway. Whatever he told him would at least get him to kill for a while. Then, if he started slipping again, he or Nappa would have to convince him again that he needed to kill more. They would do whatever it took to keep him going so they would have the planet cleared on time. If it meant manipulating Vegeta, then so be it. At least he would live.

…

He watched her putting on her dress. It was simple, but elegant, wisteria satin overlaid with plum chiffon. She hadn't wanted a strapless dress, so she was given a dress with cap sleeves encrusted with shimmering jewels. He thought it looked good on her, but she wasn't as satisfied. She frowned at herself in the mirror and spun around. Did it have to be so _low_, both in the back and front? What sort of bra was she supposed to wear with it? This wouldn't do, not at all.

"I can't wear this, Goku."

Goku, who was sitting backwards at the desk, rested his chin on the back of the chair. He was bored. His chin kept slipping across the finished wood until finally he gave up and held his chin in his hand with his elbow on his knee. She had been scrutinizing her appearance for the past half hour and demanded he stay there to give his opinion even though he told her at the outset that she looked good. "Why not?"

She slapped her arms against her sides. "I just feel so… so exposed."

Her husband shrugged. "So have them fix it. There's still plenty of time. It's only April. You have until October to get it right."

"I know." She smoothed the fabric over her hips and turned to the right, then the left. "Am I getting fat?"

"No, of course not, honey."

"I did have a baby. Maybe I should start working out more. I trained a lot when I was younger. I was pretty good at martial arts, you know. Of course you know, you fought me." She started mumbling to herself so Goku couldn't understand her anymore. She was always losing him when she started talking about exercise and diets and such things. It wasn't a topic that came up often, but when it did he was left in the dust.

Goku rubbed his forehead. "Do you think this is a good idea, Chi?"

"Is what a good idea?"

He shrugged and looked out the window. It was a dreary, rainy day. Typical April. The raindrops pattered against the glass window and a clap of thunder rumbled in the distance. "I don't know. Bulma and Yamcha marrying."

Chi-Chi glanced over at her husband. He had a rare crease of worry between his brows. She sighed. "I know what you mean, Goku, but they're adults and they can make their own decisions. Maybe things will change when they're married."

"I don't want to see either of them get hurt." He looked down at the plain floorboards and exhaled slowly. "And something doesn't seem right about it. I can't explain it."

"You mean like how they don't seem to really love each other, but they're both convinced that they do?" She tied her hair up in a bun and started her scrutiny over again in the mirror.

"Is that what it is?" Goku didn't always understand emotions and relationships very well. He married Chi-Chi because it felt like the right thing to do. He did love her, and the love he had for her had grown over their years together. But he still didn't understand the love between other people. All he knew was that Yamcha and Bulma had always been in an unstable relationship and more often than not they seemed to be unhappy with each other because of some little argument. That didn't scream happily ever after to him.

Chi-Chi let her hair down and walked over to sit on the side of their bed. "I might be wrong. If you want my honest opinion, I think both of them are too selfish to get married."

Goku laughed a little and rubbed the back of his head. "That's for sure."

She smiled and stood up. "Can you unzip my dress?" She turned around and Goku got up and unzipped the back of her dress for her. "I wouldn't worry about it too much, Goku. Either we're wrong or they're wrong. Hopefully they'll realize if it's a mistake before they take their vows, but we'll have to wait and see what happens." She stepped out of her dress and put it on its hanger. "Could you go check up on Gohan?"

"Sure, Chi." Goku kissed her cheek on his way out of their bedroom. She was right, as usual. It wasn't his place to question Bulma and Yamcha's decision. They would do what was right. He had to trust them.

…

The purge was finally completed with a day to spare. The three saiyans met back at their space pods and were preparing to return to Frieza's base when they received a transmission on their scouters. Instead of going to base, they were to travel to another planet in the same galaxy and purge it. They were then to wait to receive further orders. Neither Nappa nor Raditz was happy with their instructions. Were they going to have back to back missions until they failed? They were tired and hungry. There hadn't been time to stop for food or sleep for the whole month. There were simply too many civilians to kill.

"He's going to keep us going until we can't go any longer," Raditz grumbled.

"I know." Nappa leaned against his space pod and stroked his mustache with his thumb. "We need help. At least until the prince is better." He cast a glance over at Vegeta, who was again standing with arms at his sides and a blank expression on his face.

Raditz kicked the dirt and crossed his arms over his chest. "What if we had another third-class?"

Nappa looked up at his comrade. "What did you say?"

Raditz shrugged and dug his toe into the soft ground. "What if we had a third-class saiyan join our squadron? I'm not sure we would be able to find one, but I did hear that I had a brother. He was sent away from the planet before Frieza blew it up. Maybe he survived."

"How would we find him? He could have been sent anywhere." Nappa scoffed and shook his head. There was no way to find one person in the whole universe. He could be anywhere. He could be dead.

"I looked in the saiyan records once, just to see if I could find him. His name was Kakarrot. He was sent to some puny planet called E-arth."

"E-arth? That's a stupid name." Nappa scratched his head. "Do you know where it is?"

A sly smirk curled Raditz's lips. "It's in this galaxy."

"What? This galaxy! Why didn't you say anything before?"

"Look, I don't even know if he's alive, alright? I didn't want to mention him because I thought it might be a wild goose chase trying to find him. It doesn't matter if I know what planet he was sent to if he's not there anymore. Either moved on somewhere else or dead."

"It would be worth finding out. We _need_ another saiyan if we're going to complete these purges." Nappa pushed away from his pod and started pacing. "The next planet is going to be easy. The population is low, the planet is small, they don't have advanced weaponry, and they aren't very strong. Me and Vegeta can handle it. You go to E-arth, wherever the hell that is, and see if Kakarrot's still alive. If he is, bring him back with you. We're not going to tell Frieza about this. If we're lucky, no one will notice you're not with us. Go now."

"Right." Raditz opened the hatch of his space pod and stepped in. He poked his head out and shifted his gaze from Nappa to Vegeta. "Keep working with him, Nappa. He has to get better."

"I know. Hurry up, get out of here."

Raditz nodded and sat back in his space pod. He entered the coordinates he remembered from the files on his brother's mission and hit the command to launch. Within minutes he was flying through deep space on his way toward E-arth, and hopefully, his brother. They were taking a huge risk having him going to a planet not on the purge list, but if they could get help it would be worth it. Maybe they could lie to Frieza about where Kakarrot came from. Maybe he would spare them if they still managed to get all their purges done. Either way it was a gamble. But with Vegeta in his current state, who knew if they could count on his help?

_A/N: And so it begins...I feel like Nappa and Raditz are Vegeta's thanes (For more information on thanes and their relationship to their leader, read _Beowulf_). We're so close to Vegeta and Bulma meeting again! Bear with me, readers. I know you're anxious to get to it. As for Yamcha and Bulma's engagement, what's wrong with it? You all want this to be a B/V fic? It's not in the romance genre. But, you never know what might happen. I don't know if Bulma was that excited about marrying in canon or not. I thought she was more ambivalent than anything. I just made her more interested in marriage because it suits my AU purposes. ;) Many of you have noticed that the saiyans' power levels are all much higher than in CU. I'll just tell you this: It's important in the near future. More twists and turns coming up!_

_Thank you kindly for all the reviews. Keep 'em coming. I love your thoughts on my story!_

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl. Thanks!_

_Vegeta: 27  
>Bulma: 25<em>


	38. Wedding Day

Wedding Day

The past six months passed rapidly. They were nothing but a blur to Bulma, but now time seemed to be standing still to make up for its rush. She stood in her bedroom, looking herself over in her mirror. Her blue hair was curled and piled high on her head. Her dress, perfect white, made her look like a genuine princess. Its strapless style was elegant, and classic with the tulle shawl around her shoulders, and the satin bodice and skirt were adorned with real diamonds in floral designs. The bodice was tight, accentuating her curves, and the skirt flared out at her hips. The dress did not have a long train by her request. She had decided the perfect place to get married was on the grounds of Capsule Corporation. She didn't want her dress getting dirty by dragging through the grass. So this was it. This was the day she married Yamcha. She felt jittery, but her smile was real.

She pulled on her long satin gloves and turned away from the mirror. She went to her balcony and saw that everything was ready. The altar was set up with several rows of chairs for her guests. Some were already milling around, awaiting the ceremony. The priest was there, too. Good. She sighed happily when she saw how wonderfully her decorations turned out. Everything was as she pictured it. The photographer was there, taking pictures to document it all. This was a wedding to go down in the history books.

She jumped when she heard someone knocking on the door. "Bulma, honey, it's about time to get started."

"Ok, Mom. I'll be down in a minute." Bulma exhaled a shaky breath and ran over to the mirror to check herself over one last time. Her makeup was perfect, her hair was in place, and her dress looked fantastic on her. She put on a diamond necklace and left her room.

Bulma went downstairs and found her father waiting for her by the door. The guests were all seated, Yamcha and the groomsmen were all waiting. Chi-Chi and Launch, her bridesmaids, walked into the hall when they heard her on the stairs. "Wow, guys, you look great," she told them.

"Oh, Bulma!" Chi-Chi threw her arms around her blue-haired friend when she saw her. "You're absolutely beautiful."

"Thanks, Chi." Bulma pulled away from her and gestured toward the door. "Well, what do you say we get this show on the road?"

Launch opened the door and went outside. With the door open, they could hear the music playing. She smiled at Bulma and stepped outside, followed by Chi-Chi. When the music changed to her processional music, Bulma linked arms with her father and went outside. She saw all her guests standing, turned to see her entrance. Her smile brightened when she looked down the aisle and saw Yamcha at the end, the biggest grin she had ever seen on his face. She could see him wiping the palms of his hands on his pants. He was nervous. So was she, so she couldn't blame him. They stopped short of the altar where Dr. Brief gave her away. He kissed her cheek and she stepped forward, taking Yamcha's hand.

She hardly listened to the priest as he talked. She could hear her own heart pounding in her chest and she was afraid Yamcha could feel her hands trembling. She was excited and nervous all at once. Her palms felt sweaty, but she wasn't sure if it was from her hands or his. Maybe both. She wished the priest would hurry up and finish so they could say their vows and get it done. The suspense was killing her.

…

"Two minutes until landfall."

The saiyan opened his eyes and stretched as much as he could in the confines of his space pod. He yawned, filling his lungs with oxygen, and scratched his head. He hated waking from stasis. He looked out the porthole and saw a small planet in the distance, blue with white streaks like a marble floating in space. Nothing terribly impressive from his viewpoint. He shrugged and leaned back in his seat. He hadn't come to admire the view. He was on a mission.

"One minute until landfall."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered. He shifted in his seat in preparation for impact. The pod started shaking as he entered the atmosphere and the retrorockets fired up to slow his descent. He hoped this wouldn't take long. He needed to get it done as fast as possible. He moved his hands to the edge of the seat and dug his fingers into the cushiony material. He counted down in his head the seconds to impact, relaxing every muscle in his body at the last instant. He nearly crashed forward in the pod, but he held himself in his seat. "So, I'm here."

He entered the code to open the hatch. A stream of daylight shone in and he caught the scent of tamed animals, most likely birds. His stomach rumbled the second he smelled it. It had been an awfully long time since his last meal. He stepped out of the pod and squinted until his eyes adjusted to the bright light. He heard something else rumbling and puttering not far away. It was growing closer. It didn't sound like any sort of animal he could imagine. He levitated out of the crater and was shocked when he saw a living person holding a flimsy weapon that was aimed at him. He could smell the man's fear and he was visibly shaking. Pathetic weakling.

"Who are you?" the man yelled.

Raditz sneered. There were three possibilities: the first was that he came to the wrong planet, the second was that his brother died, and the third was that his brother didn't complete his mission. There was no excuse if the third was the truth. The creature standing before him had a power level of five. Even a saiyan infant could easily crush such a being. Especially if he transformed into the oozaru. He shook his head and lowered himself to the ground.

"I asked who you are!" the man yelled, seeing that the long-haired visitor wasn't answering. He pulled the trigger on his rifle.

He heard the bang and snatched the flying bullet out of the air. What a primitive weapon. He rolled his eyes and flicked the bullet back, hitting the man in the forehead. He dropped to the ground, dead. Raditz stepped over his fallen body and surveyed the field. Miles of lush green grass stretched in all directions around him. There were tall mountains in the far distance. In the pasture, he saw the birds he smelled. They were large and pink, probably flightless. The man, judging by his attire, was a sort of farmer and these birds were his livestock. That meant they were edible. Not that Raditz was concerned with whether or not the planet's natives considered the birds to be food; he could eat anything. The birds instinctively moved away from him when he approached. He didn't want to waste much time, but having some nourishment before getting started wouldn't be a bad idea. He blasted one of the birds and started eating without cooking it.

He ate three of the birds and some pears he found in a tree before he used his scouter to find the highest power levels on the planet. He was disappointed when the highest level was far below what a saiyan's level should have been. Even as a third-class, if that power belonged to his brother, he was pathetically weak for his age. He should have at least reached 1100 by now. He shook his head and headed in the direction his scouter indicated. He flew for several minutes, soon finding himself in a desert wasteland. Why anyone would want to spend their time there he couldn't fathom. He closed in on the source of the energy signal soon enough and landed on the ground across from him. A Namekian? He wasn't going to bother asking.

"Who are you?" the Namekian demanded.

Raditz wondered why everyone was so interested in who he was. His name was irrelevant. What mattered was that he was going to kill them. "I'm not interested in introductions. I'm here to find my brother. I thought perhaps you were him judging by your power. Tell me, do you know of anyone who goes by the name of Kakarrot?"

"No, I don't."

"Power level of 322. You're not from this planet, that much is obvious."

"Look, I don't want to start a fight – "

"I do." Raditz could play with this fighter for quite a while before tossing him aside like a ragdoll. He was ten times stronger, but he knew how to take it easy and draw out a fight. The only problem he ever had was the other warrior giving up. But this green man seemed pretty uptight to begin with, probably thinking he was tough stuff. Raditz wouldn't mind taking him down a notch before sending him to the next dimension. Besides, he could use the warm-up.

Piccolo quickly powered up and fired a powerful ki blast at Raditz, but it had no effect on the saiyan warrior. While he was still in shock, Raditz decided he would end the fight quickly after all. He didn't have time to waste on someone so weak. He had to find his brother and take him away to help purge other planets. They were on a tight schedule and they had Frieza breathing down their necks.

Raditz was about to unleash his attack when his scouter picked up another power level far away to the west. "That must be Kakarrot!" Abandoning his fight with the Namekian, Raditz flew to the higher power level as fast as he could. This one had to be his brother, though it was still weak. It didn't matter. With a power of 334 he was still stronger than many of the other creatures in the galaxy and would still prove useful in purge missions. Though he didn't seem to be very good at purging this planet with all its fragile inhabitants. Something must have gone wrong, but what?

…

Bulma thought the priest was going to drone on forever. Would he get to the point already? She got it, they were going to live together forever as one, blah, blah, blah. She'd heard it all before on a million soap operas. She knew what she was getting herself into and she was ready to make the jump. She wanted Yamcha at her side for the rest of her life. She felt like the priest was trying to make her change her mind more than join them together.

"Yamcha, do you take Bulma to be your wedded wife, to live together in marriage. Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to her so long as you both shall live?" The priest looked expectantly at Yamcha, who seemed to have forgotten how to speak. He grinned stupidly at Bulma, trying to get his voice to work.

'Two simple words, you lunkhead,' she groaned inwardly. 'Just say the damn words. I do isn't that hard to remember! Come on!'

He was about to speak before he was interrupted when a strong wind started up across the Capsule Corporation lawn. Everyone looked up and started shouting when they saw something that had the potential to completely ruin the whole wedding ceremony. If nothing else, it seriously messed up Bulma's perfect hair, which further incensed her when she realized what was going on.

"Get out of here!" she screamed, waving her bouquet furiously to gain the attention of the helicopter pilot, ignoring the fact that half the petals were instantly blown off. "You idiot! You're ruining my wedding!"

She was too furious to even think about how the media helicopter managed to get into the airspace about the compound without being shot down or something. The only aircraft allowed over Capsule Corp grounds were the private jets the Briefs used and transport vehicles used to bring in materials. She turned to Goku, the best man, and pointed at the copter. "Goku, would you _please_ go tell them to leave before I sue their asses for every penny they're worth?"

Goku grinned and leaped up the helicopter. He had a short conversation with the pilot before he jumped back down to the ground. By the time his feet hit the earth, the helicopter was flying away. Apparently Bulma's threat was heeded.

Trying to fix her hair with her free hand, Bulma scowled at the retreating helicopter. "I told every majors news company that if they tried to crash my wedding they would pay for it," she growled. Once everyone had taken their seats after the small fiasco and they quieted down, Bulma took Yamcha's hands and smiled sweetly. "Now, where were we?"

Yamcha swallowed and took a deep breath. "I-I do."

Bulma breathed a sigh of relief. She squeezed Yamcha's hands tighter. The priest turned to her and asked her the same question of intention. "Do you, Bulma, take Yamcha to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in marriage. Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him so long as you both shall live?"

She suddenly realized why Yamcha hesitated so long. This was it. They were really doing it. She wanted to do it, but she choked on the words. They were hard to say. They were the hardest words she would ever have to say. She opened her mouth to speak.

"Everybody look out!"

"Huh?" There was an uproar through the gathered guests and a gust of wind nearly knocked Bulma off her feet before she could see what was happening. She felt Yamcha's hands breaking free from hers and heard screams all around her. If it was those damn reporters again she was personally going to see to it that they found themselves in the unemployment line tomorrow morning. She whirled around, trying to find the source of the chaos, but she tripped over the hem of her dress before she could take more than two steps. As she crashed to the ground she saw Yamcha and the others running in the same direction, their hands clenched into fists and their auras flaring up around them. She called out to them, "Guys, wait! We're not finished here yet! Get back here! What is going on?"

No one was listening. Her wedding day was ruined. She knew it before she saw what the problem was. Something had gone horribly wrong, something far worse than meddling news crews. She pushed herself up to her feet and gasped when she saw a man she didn't recognize standing inside the gate of the compound. How had he gotten in? The security system should have been able to keep anyone out. She gulped when she appraised him more carefully. He was enormous, probably almost seven feet tall. Heavily muscled, he had long, wild hair that went past his knees, and he was wearing some weird brown and black armor that seemed familiar. She gasped when she looked at his face and saw a strange communication device on his left ear with a dark green screen that wrapped around and covered his left eye. Aside from the color, it was exactly like… Vegeta's.

Bulma gathered up her skirts and kicked off her high heels to run over to the unexpected visitor and her friends, who were all gathered in a bunch a few feet away from him. As she drew closer she could hear them exchanging words. Neither party sounded pleased with the other. She stopped when she reached Goku, who was standing at the front of the pack, and laid her hand on his shoulder. He was hunched forward, ready to take his fighting stance if need be.

"Why haven't you killed these people, Kakarrot?" the stranger shouted.

Bulma shrank back from him. He was clearly upset and he reeked of death. He terrified her. She could feel Goku trembling. She looked at his face and saw a rare expression of rage. "I don't know who this Kakarrot you're looking for is. My name is Goku, and I'm an earthling!"

"Fool! Have you forgotten who are you? _What_ you are?"

"Goku," Bulma squeaked, "what is he talking about?"

Goku shrugged off her hand and moved into his fighting stance. "He _says_ I'm an alien and I was sent to Earth as a baby to kill everyone here. He _claims_ to be my older brother."

Bulma gasped and looked from Goku to the other man, presumably an alien. Now that she was closer, she could see some resemblance between the two. But he was so much taller and bigger and _evil_. She could practically feel it. She shook her head furiously. "You have a brother? Goku, what is going on?"

"Now isn't the time for questions, Bulma," he growled. He shoved her behind him into the safety of Yamcha's arms. He glared at Raditz. "Even if what you say is true, you're no brother of mine! I was raised an earthling, so my allegiance is to them, not these saiyans."

Saiyans? Bulma felt her heart stop. Did he say saiyans? She broke free of Yamcha's embrace and stepped forward again, bravely this time. She swallowed back her fear and went closer to Raditz. She noticed for the first time a strange brown belt around his waist. That wasn't a belt though. She knew exactly what it was. It was a tail. He was a saiyan. She'd heard that word once before, so long ago she could hardly remember. She had always had her suspicions about Goku and her first real friend…

Defiantly, she met Raditz's gaze. He looked at her with disdain, but she refused to be intimidated. He might know something she desperately wanted to know. She cleared her throat, hoping her voice would be strong when she spoke. "Saiyan? You're a saiyan? What's your name?"

The tall man's lip curled in a sneer. "My name is Raditz, wench, not that it concerns you. Yes, I am a saiyan warrior. I was sent here to retrieve my brother. We could use more help on our missions."

Bulma held up her hand. "Whoa, slow down there, buddy. You said Goku is your brother?" She looked back at her younger friend, who was staring at her incredulously, urging her silently to get back to safety behind him. She ignored him as she turned back to Raditz. "I don't know what the chances are, but do you know a saiyan by the name of Vegeta?"

Raditz was actually caught off guard with that question. He reeled back, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. How did she know that name? This backwater planet didn't seem to be aware of anything outside its atmosphere. There was no way she could have heard his name. Unless… he shook his head and raked his hand through his long mane. It wasn't possible. This wasn't the planet. It couldn't be. He regained his voice a moment later. "How do you know that name?" he snarled.

"Why, do you know him?" Bulma's eyebrow raised and she rested her hands on her hips.

"Of course I know him, you fool!" he yelled. "He is my prince!"

"Bulma," Goku hissed, "Get out of here. It's dangerous here. Get everyone out."

Bulma shook her head in response to her friend's pleas. She wasn't going to leave until she found out more from this alien. "Vegeta is your prince?"

"How do you know his name?"

Bulma huffed. "You mean to tell me he's never mentioned me? This planet? Anything?" She felt tears forming and blinked them back. If they were talking about the same Vegeta – and she was sure they were – he never intended to come back to Capsule Corporation. He left, he left the damn planet for Kami's sake! And he forgot about them. They were nothing to him. It couldn't be.

"Why would he? He has never been here before."

The blue-haired woman stomped her foot, now furious with the boy who she once considered a friend, a brother. "He was too here! He stayed here with me and my parents for six months!" She wiped her eyes with her hands. "He was – he was only eleven. I know it's been a long time, but, but he was here. He was my friend."

"Bulma?" Yamcha decided it was time to speak up. He stepped forward and grabbed Bulma's elbow, dragging her back a few feet. "B, what are you talking about?"

Raditz growled. He didn't have time to waste talking to this female peasant. He found his brother and intended to take him away. He couldn't fail his comrades. "Look, I don't know what the hell you're talking about, wench, and I'm not interested. I'm here for Kakarrot. Forget the purge on this planet. We don't have time to waste."

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" Goku snapped.

"Brother," Raditz said, his tone giving a clear warning, "You must come with me. We need your help." He advanced a step toward his little brother, not willing to take 'no' for an answer. He froze when he felt two small hands on his forearm. He looked to the side and saw the blue-haired woman looking up at him, pleading with her eyes for him to wait.

"Raditz, please, are you sure Vegeta never mentioned Earth?"

"You foolish woman!" He brushed her off, nearly knocking her off her feet. "Yes, he mentioned Earth, but it'll do you no good. He's never coming back here. Even if he did, he would not remember you."

Bulma felt a hot tear trickle down her cheek. "He's never coming back?"

"Not unless he comes to destroy your damn mudball."

"He wouldn't! He's not like that!" Bulma's voice broke as a sob rose in her chest. "He's not like that!"

"You obviously don't know him."

Bulma felt arms encircling her waist and pulling her away. She didn't care. She felt numb. Her Vegeta? A killer? A monster? She couldn't believe it. But then, it _had_ been nearly two decades since she last saw him. Maybe he changed. Or maybe she never really knew him, like Raditz said. She slowly shook her head, no longer able to fight back her tears. The pain of Vegeta leaving had healed long ago. She accepted the fact that he was never going to return. But Raditz opened the wound, like picking off a scab, and now she was hurting all over again. It was made worse this time because she knew for sure he never meant to come home. He was an alien, a real alien from another planet, and his job was clearing planets of life. Like some kind of sick space pirate. It was too much for her to bear. She fainted.

…

"C'mon, Vegeta, we got to purge this planet fast. We only got three weeks to do it," Nappa reminded his prince. They were on their fourth straight mission. They were tired and hungry and wanted nothing more than some food and rest, but they had to keep going to meet the lizard's requirements. They were to complete the purge of the current planet in two weeks. That wasn't very long even though there were few inhabitants. The problem was, they were pretty strong and they lived mostly underground. That meant it would take time to flush them out and kill them since they weren't supposed to utterly destroy the surface of the planet.

Vegeta groaned and ruffled his hair. He was constantly reminded that failure to do as he was ordered would result in death, but he was beginning to not care. At least if he were dead he wouldn't have to purge planets and obey the commands of the disgusting lizard. Sure, he preferred being alive over rotting in hell, but sometimes it was hard to tell the difference. "I'm tired of purging planets."

"I know, so am I," Nappa admitted. "How 'bout we get some food and then we get started?"

"Fine." Vegeta sat down on the ground and stared up at the star-studded sky. He would wait for Nappa to find them some food. He heard the larger saiyan leave to go hunt some prey. He really did appreciate his bodyguard. Since Raditz left he had been his only companion. He was always there to make sure he wasn't detaching himself from reality, helping ease him into sanity. It had been a long road, but he was finally able to say he was real, the world was real, and all his senses were real. Basically, he had recovered from his madness almost entirely, but he still had a deep-seated fear of abandonment. He would never tell the others, nor would he let any such fear cross their mental links, but he was well aware of it. He could not stand the idea of ever being alone again.

He waited for nearly an hour before Nappa returned, dragging behind him three large animals. Each one had black fur, long necks, two legs, and short tails. Strange creatures, to say the least, but undoubtedly edible, and that was all the saiyans cared about. While Nappa skinned and gutted the animals, Vegeta started a fire and started roasting the meat. They found the meat was mostly flavorless, in serious need of seasoning, but they didn't care enough to bother finding any sort of herbs. Their main goal was nourishment, not gustatory pleasure. They finished soon after starting their meal and stood up, blasted the remains of the animals, and checked their scouters to locate the nearest inhabitants to start their purge.

"If we can find access to their underground networks, we can probably finish this purge quickly," Vegeta reasoned. "They're probably connected in the same way any other civilization is connected on ground level."

"You're probably right."

"Of course I am." Vegeta rolled his eyes. He looked around and wondered why the sentient species lived beneath the planet's surface. Were the conditions so adverse? The whole planet seemed to be covered in a thick jungle. The air was hot and humid, teeming with flying insects. There were wild beasts, but so far he hadn't seen any that looked particularly dangerous. It seemed habitable enough, but he wasn't there to question the natives about their living arrangements. He was there to kill them. "There's a large group of them 90 miles southwest of here. Go and see if you can find a way to get underground there. I'm going to go to the other side of the planet and search for a way in. Let me know if you have any trouble with them."

"Yes, sir." Nappa leaped into the air and flew in the direction of the large populace. Vegeta sighed before shooting off to go to the opposite side of the globe. He hoped Raditz managed to find his brother, assuming he was still alive. Having another member in their squadron would be advantageous. They could finish missions faster and have more time for rest in between. Saiyans had incredible endurance, but Frieza was purposely pushing their limits. Stasis gave them rest, but it wasn't the kind of rest that left them feeling energized. It merely kept them alive without nutrient intake and oxygen for long periods.

'I want to get this over with. Maybe if we finish this one fast, Frieza will allow us a short break from missions. I doubt it, but there's always the chance.' Vegeta flew until he was above a source of thousands of energy signals. Somewhere, deep below the planet's surface, was a city of sorts. He was going to find a way in, blast the people, and find some sort of link to the next group of people. Nothing to it.

…

Raditz watched disinterestedly as the human with the scarred face dragged the woman away. At least he didn't have to deal with her and her foolish questions anymore. His eyes shifted to his brother, who was readying himself for a fight. He rolled his eyes. He was weak, there was no way he could put up a decent fight. He noticed Kakarrot didn't have a tail. Another mockery of his race, letting these humans take away the source of his true power. No wonder his power level was so low. His brother was nothing but a disgrace, but even so, he could hopefully be helpful on their purge assignments. He was not going to leave Earth empty-handed.

He was distracted from his thoughts when a child forced his way through the legs of the earthling warriors and ran to cling to Kakarrot's leg. He had long, wild black hair and pure black eyes filled with tears. That was nothing too unusual, but what caught Raditz's attention was the brown, furry tail weaving through the air behind him. A saiyan tail. There was no mistaking it.

"You have a son, Kakarrot?"

Goku wasn't listening. He was trying to push Gohan back to safety, but the child wouldn't let go of his leg. He was terrified of what was going on around him and he was seeking comfort from his father. He didn't like the big, scary man who had his eyes on him. He didn't like how he smelled and he didn't like the way he talked to people. He was mean.

'I can't believe this! He mated with one of these inferior creatures?' Raditz ground his teeth and clenched his fists. Maybe his brother _wasn't_ worth the effort. He was more human than saiyan, that much was clear. Still, he had the potential they needed. Saiyan potential, saiyan strength. He didn't have a tail anymore, but his son did. Would a half-breed have the same power?

"Well, then, Kakarrot, if you won't come with me then I'll take your son in your place." When Raditz stepped forward to grab Gohan, Goku growled and shot forward to defend him. He punched Raditz in the jaw, but he was easily knocked to the ground, the breath forced from his lungs. Bursts of light exploded in his vision. The pain was like nothing he had ever felt before. Raditz stepped over him and snatched Gohan by the back of his jacket and held him up at eye level. The boy was disgusting, with tears streaming down his cheeks and snot hanging from his nose. Maybe he wasn't worth taking. Well, he had to be better than nothing.

Raditz was nearly caught off guard when another one of the warriors assaulted him, a short bald man with an even lower power level than the Namekian he encountered earlier. Raditz slapped him out of the air with his tail. He lost consciousness as soon as he hit the ground. There was another taller man, bald, with three eyes. Instead of trying a physical attack, he threw a powerful beam of ki at Raditz, careful to avoid hitting Gohan. Raditz sidestepped the attack and fired back with a small ball of ki that nearly killed the three-eyed warrior.

"I'm done wasting my time with you weaklings. I'll give you one hour to make up your mind, Kakarrot. It's you or the boy." Raditz kicked Goku in the ribs and levitated off the ground, leaving behind confusion and fear. He flew back to his space pod with the crying child and shut him in it, tired of hearing his bawling. He went to find more food while he waited for his brother to come with his decision made.

"Goku, Goku get up!" Chi-Chi knelt next to her husband and shook his shoulders, trying to break him out of his daze. "Goku, he took Gohan! You have to get him back!" She was hysterical, shrieking.

Goku winced as he sat up and rubbed his head. He heard his pulse rushing in his ears. He felt like he'd been hit by a train. "Where'd he go? I'm going to go after him!"

"I wouldn't go alone if I were you."

They looked up when they heard a chillingly familiar gruff voice high above them. They saw Goku's arch nemesis, Piccolo, hovering in the sky above them with cape billowing in the wind. His arms were crossed and he had a deep scowl on his face. He never looked happy, not even when he was winning in a fight against Goku. The tailless saiyan, though still feeling the effects of the blow Raditz gave him, jumped to his feet, immediately on the defense against Piccolo.

"What do you want?" he shouted.

Piccolo lowered himself to the ground. He didn't seem terribly pleased about what he was about to say. "I don't like this anymore than you do, but we can't beat him fighting alone. He's too strong. I'm proposing a temporary alliance. As soon as we take care of him it'll go back to the way it's always been between us."

"Goku, you can't trust him," Chi-Chi hissed. She clung to his arm, afraid of Piccolo, terrified for her son, and horrified by the events leading up to this strange proposal.

Goku rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to do. All he knew was that he couldn't waste more time. He had to hurry and get Gohan back or Raditz would take him away and he might never see him again. He couldn't allow that to happen. He gently pushed Chi-Chi away. "Alright, we'll fight him together." He gave an apologizing glance to his wife. "I'll bring him home, Chi, don't worry."

"Please be careful," she whispered.

He nodded. "Flying nimbus!" The yellow cloud flew to him and he hopped on. "You think you can keep up?" he asked Piccolo.

"Please. That thing will be lucky to keep up with me."

"Alright then. Let's go!"

_A/N: Ah, suspense. What do you think happens when Goku and Piccolo fight Raditz? Guess you'll just have to wait and find out! Bring on the reviews. :)_

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_


	39. Fallen Comrades

Fallen Comrades

"I found him, but he isn't coming willingly. He has a brat that has a tail. He might be of use to us if I can't get Kakarrot to come." Raditz devoured another pear and leaned against the tree trunk.

"What do you mean he isn't coming willingly?"

"I mean he refuses to come without a fight. I'll knock him out and bring him with me if I have to. Something happened to him when he was a baby. He forgot his mission and his identity. He's hardly saiyan anymore."

Raditz heard a growl over his scouter. He was glad he wasn't on the same planet as his prince at the moment. "Idiot! Fine, bring the brat if you can't get that useless fool. He's worthless without his tail anyway."

"Yes, sir." The display on his scouter showed two rapidly approaching power levels. "Looks like I've got company."

"Don't cut the transmission. I want to hear what happens."

"No problem, sir." Raditz stood up and stretched. He was several yards from the crater with his space pod in the middle. He saw the Namekian and his brother land at the edge of the crater. They were talking, probably trying to formulate some battle tactic. He snorted. They were never going to be able to kill him. He was far stronger.

"We have to get Gohan out," Goku insisted. He slid down into the crater and tried to pull the hatch open. He could see and hear Gohan inside, crying and whimpering. He was unable to get it open, so he beat against the pod with his fists.

Piccolo watched from the edge of the crater, not at all interested in helping his rival's son. He was here to fight a threat to the planet. Earth was destined to be _his_ planet, he wasn't going to step aside and let an alien destroy the people that were to be his subjects. He pulled his turban off, then his cape. They made loud thumps as they hit the ground next to him. He stretched his muscles in a quick warm-up.

Raditz stepped out of the shade, eyebrow raised as his scouter indicated the Namekian's power level had gone up to 400. Still trivial, but an interesting trick nonetheless. Maybe he would get a challenging battle after all. Kakarrot was still in the crater, no doubt trying fruitlessly to break his son free from his prison. Raditz walked toward the crater.

"I see you've come sooner than I expected," he said. "Have you made your decision, Kakarrot?" He stopped at the edge of the crater and looked down at his brother.

Goku's head turned. "Let him go!"

"So I take it you've decided to come with me." Raditz laughed when Goku renewed his efforts to open the space pod. He was hard-headed. Definitely saiyan. He was undeterred by anything. "That's just as well. I doubt a half-breed would be any use in the planet trade."

"As much as I hate breaking up this little family reunion, I'd like to pick up where we left off," Piccolo snarled.

Raditz laughed again. "You must be eager to die, green man."

"Don't be so cocky." Piccolo turned and shouted down into the crater, "Goku, get up here! We'll defeat him and then you can get your kid back."

Goku sighed and pressed his hand against the porthole. "Gohan, don't be scared. I'll get you out of there, alright? Just wait, I need to take care of the bad man first." Inside, he could see Gohan nodding, though his frown only deepened. Goku climbed out of the crater and stood next to Piccolo. "So what do you think our chances are?"

Piccolo huffed. "They'll be better if you stop fooling around."

"I see what you mean." Goku sat down and pulled off his boots, wristbands, and weighted undershirt. He was surprised Raditz was willing to wait long enough for them to get ready to fight. He expected him to start attacking before they could warm up. He didn't strike him as the most honorable opponent, but maybe he made his initial judgments too hastily. Not that he didn't think he was evil. Brother or not, he didn't like him and wasn't going to take it easy on him in their fight because of blood ties.

Raditz's scouter told him Goku's power jumped when he removed his training clothes. It was now 416. Still stronger than the Namekian by some. It was impressive how their power could change after making such a simple change. Their power was suppressed by their clothes. He would have to remember that. It might come in useful later. He turned off the power readings and appraised his two opponents. Weak, but determined. It would be wise to stay on guard when fighting them. "Are you ready now?"

Goku hopped up and down a few times, getting his blood flowing. He stretched his arms across his chest and behind his head. Finally, after cracking his neck, he smirked and lowered himself into his fighting stance. "Yeah, _brother_, I'm ready."

Piccolo sank into his stance. "Stop your babbling! Let's fight."

"I suppose you think shedding your weights will make you strong enough to win?" Raditz laughed and spread his legs as he moved into his own stance facing them. "You don't know the meaning of strength. Allow me to show you."

"Your arrogance will be your downfall," Goku warned him.

Raditz smirked. "Now watch closely. I'll only do this once." Before either Piccolo or Goku could react, he phased behind them and elbowed both of them in the back, knocking them both to the ground. He rested his hands on his hips while they staggered to their feet.

'Oh man, this is going to be harder than I thought,' Goku thought. 'I couldn't even track his movement.' He knew he was up against a tough opponent, but he had no idea what he was actually getting himself into. All he knew was that he had to save his son, and he refused to go with any so-called long lost brother to kill people on other planets to sell them. He was no mercenary. Even if he went down fighting, he would never let Raditz win.

…

Bulma groaned as she cracked her eyes open. She raised her hand to her pounding head. A migraine? Fantastic. She closed her eyes again and inhaled deeply, then slowly released her breath. She felt a cool, damp cloth pressed against her forehead. It was nice. Someone pushed her down onto her back. She was in her bed. That was odd, she didn't remember going to bed.

"Mind telling me what's going on?" she slurred.

"Kami, Bulma, you scared me," Yamcha said. "What were you thinking talking to that creep? He could have killed you! I bet you he wouldn't have hesitated to."

Bulma winced. "Would you be quiet?" she hissed.

Yamcha lowered his voice, but he continued scolding her, "And who the hell is Vegeta? You've never mentioned a Vegeta to me. And you expect some crazy space alien to know him? You must be out of your mind!"

At first Bulma was confused. She had no idea what he was talking about. But then a flood of memories rushed back and she remembered her conversation with Raditz, what he was asking of Goku, and that he knew Vegeta and said he would never come back to Earth. She was stricken with grief all over again, but not nearly as intense as before. Her emotions were dulled from her recent overload. She slowly shook her head and sat up, pushing away Yamcha's arm when he tried to hold her down. She felt better now, she wasn't crippled. She could sit up if she wanted to.

"So then what happened?"

"Raditz took Gohan. You wouldn't believe it, but Piccolo came too and he and Goku went to fight him. They're fighting somewhere a long way east of here. I can feel their ki." Yamcha sighed, then turned to Bulma with a nervous smile. "I'm sure they got it under control, B. So, what do you think, should we go ahead and finish the marriage? I mean, my best man and the ring bearer are gone, but we can finish without them, right?"

Bulma scowled at him and slapped his arm. "Yamcha, you jerk! Gohan could be in terrible danger and Goku's fighting someone crazy strong and you want to get _married_? Look, I'm as eager as you are to be married, but some things are more important! We have to go after them."

"Ok, ok! You're right, we'll go!" Yamcha conceded, waving his hands defensively. "But I think we should get Krillin and Tien to the infirmary first. They got hurt pretty bad. That big guy was really strong."

"What? They're hurt?" she shrieked. "Well, hurry up! We have to help!" Bulma jumped out of bed, nearly tripping over her dress again, and bolted out of her room, down the stairs, and outside to where her wrecked wedding was being held. Most of her guests fled when the commotion started, but her parents and friends were still there. Her father was standing next to her mother, who was sitting in chair sobbing and possibly having an asthma attack, and Master Roshi and Chiaotzu were both on the other side of the lawn tending to her fallen friends. Bulma rushed over to them and felt for a pulse on Krillin's neck first. He was still alive, just unconscious. She moved over to Tien and felt for his pulse. It was there, but it was weak. If he didn't get medical attention immediately he would die.

"Yamcha, do you have your cell phone?" Bulma asked. He nodded and handed it to her. She started dialing the number for the Capsule Corporation infirmary. There was always a small staff of doctors and nurses on the grounds in case of emergencies. One never knew when an experiment would go horribly wrong. Right now she was grateful for her father's precaution. While the phone rang, she addressed her fiancé, Roshi, and Chiaotzu. "Guys, carry Tien to the infirmary, _now_. He needs help right away. Krillin will be ok, leave him for now. I'll have my staff bring him. Let's go."

"Sure thing, Bulma," Yamcha said. He and Roshi lifted Tien and carried him inside the compound with Chiaotzu hovering around them, directing the way to the infirmary.

Bulma heard someone pick up on the other end, finally. She rolled her eyes. For being an emergency response team, they weren't in any hurry to answer the phone. She dismissed that thought. There were more important matters to attend to right now. "Hello, this is Bulma Brief. I have a patient on the way to the infirmary right now. He's in critical condition. There's another man who needs help on the west lawn, send someone to get him as soon as possible." She hung up and knelt down next to Krillin, not caring that she was getting grass stains on her wedding dress. She grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "Krillin, wake up. Wake up you bald-headed midget! You can't die again!"

She was still trying to rouse Krillin when Yamcha ran out and grabbed her arm. "Come on, Bulma, we have to go help Goku fight that guy. It feels like he and Piccolo are getting hit hard. Their energy is getting low."

"Oh no." Bulma rose to her feet and, with no second thought, reached down and tore her dress to shorten it so she wouldn't keep tripping when she tried to run in it. She bit her lip as she heard the satin ripping, but reminded herself she could have another dress made if she wanted. It was replaceable. Her friends weren't. "Let's go. Can you carry me? That'll be faster than a plane."

"Yeah." Yamcha scooped Bulma up in his arms and blasted off to the east where he felt an intense battle raging between three huge power levels, one far greater than the other two combined, especially now that they were decreasing. Things weren't going well for Goku and Piccolo, that much was obvious. He pushed himself to go faster before it was too late.

…

Vegeta sat down on a fallen log and started a small fire with a blast of ki from his finger. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. He was tired. He'd spent the past three days purging the planet from one side of the planet while Nappa worked from the other side. The days were short on the little planet. It felt like he had only been there for a single day, but the sun had set and risen three times. Across from him, Nappa sat on another log. He was covered in sweat, gore, and dirt. Vegeta was sure he was too, but he couldn't see himself and didn't care to look.

Their purge was quick and easy once they figured out the underground networks. The people lived in large, open caverns that were easy to demolish, killing everyone within them. Vegeta didn't mind that it had gone so fast. He was tired of killing. The constant adrenaline rush left him feeling sluggish. He was crashing. Even his saiyan physiology couldn't stand the ongoing stress for weeks and months on end.

"Nappa, go find something on this miserable planet to eat," he grumbled. He was hungry again. He wasn't going to tell Frieza they were finished with the purge yet. He was afraid that if he did, he would immediately be ordered to go clear another planet. Technically they still had 18 more days to finish their current mission. If he could spend a day or two resting and eating, he would. Then he would report to Frieza that the planet was ready for sale. Nappa grunted and got up and stalked away from their makeshift campsite. Vegeta watched his receding back. When he disappeared into the dense jungle he only had the transmission from Raditz's scouter to listen to. So far the only thing he heard was some taunting, badmouthing, howls of pain, laughter, and the soft sounds of fists connecting with flesh. Nothing terribly interesting.

Vegeta snorted when he heard the howls of pain coming from Raditz instead of the other warriors he was fighting. Apparently one of them got his tail. The fool, he should have trained himself years ago not to let that be a weakness, but he never bothered. Now he was paying for it. He sighed and shook his head when he heard Raditz begging Kakarrot to let go of his tail. How embarrassing. His saiyan pride stung with every cry for mercy his comrade uttered. At least he wasn't there to witness it first-hand. Had he been there, he might have blasted Raditz unconscious himself. 'Fool. A saiyan warrior should beg for mercy from no one.'

There were the sounds of a small scuffle, then the loud shrieks of pain from another man. He didn't recognize the voice, so he figured it was Kakarrot. What a weakling. His lip curled at the disgraceful sound. He heard bones crunching. Raditz wasn't having any mercy on him even though he was his brother. Vegeta nodded his approval. They were blood brothers, but a true saiyan would have no attachments. It didn't matter who Kakarrot was. He was a disgrace to their race, a soft weakling, a betrayer to the throne of Vegeta-sei.

_"Raditz, you fool, don't fucking kill him. He's useless to us if he's dead." _Vegeta wasn't sure his telepathy could cross several hundred light-years, but it was worth a try. He wasn't going to distract Raditz with a transmission via his scouter.

_"Not going to kill him – yet."_

Vegeta grumbled. He was going to punch that fool if he killed the only other known living saiyan. Of course he wasn't worthy to be a member of their squadron, not now at least. But he could be persuaded to change his mind about certain issues. Vegeta raked his hand through his hair and looked up when he heard Nappa returning with something to eat. He almost grimaced when he saw the other saiyan's catch: giant insect…things. They looked like enormous praying mantises. Was that the reason the former people of the planet lived underground? They were afraid of giant bugs? Granted, they were grotesque to look at, but probably edible. He'd eaten worse, by far.

"Is that the best you could find?" he asked.

Nappa shrugged and tore the creatures apart and started roasting them over the fire Vegeta created. "They were the first thing I found. Anything's got to have more flavor than those other things we ate."

"Granted." Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and, while waiting for the food to be cooked, returned his attention to the scouter transmission. His eyebrow raised slowly when he heard Raditz mention someone with a power over 1370. That was certainly unexpected. Who on that planet could be so strong if not Kakarrot? How bizarre. "Seems Raditz is having some trouble convincing his brother to join us."

Nappa grunted and stoked the fire. "What's going on?"

"Seems a bunch of weaklings have ganged up on him. He should be able to manage." Vegeta shrugged and grabbed one of the legs from the fire and bit into it. The exoskeleton was tough to break through and the flesh was disgustingly soft, but it had decent flavor. Vegeta nearly choked when he started laughing as Raditz exclaimed something about being hurt by a toddler. Was he serious?

"What now?" Nappa asked.

Vegeta threw his head back and laughed boisterously. "That fool just got attacked by a fucking child!" Vegeta took another bite of his food. "And it hurt him."

"What an idiot," Nappa muttered. A small smirk played on his lips as he shook his head and tore into one of the mantis carcasses. One thing was certain: When Raditz returned, with or without his brother, he would never live this humiliation down. Being one-upped by a child, how pitiful. At least the kid had a pretty high power if he was able to do damage to a saiyan warrior.

…

"Where the hell did that brat's power come from?" Raditz wheezed. He clutched his stomach with his hands and panted for air. His armor was cracked where Gohan's head hit him. He was breathless more from surprise than the blow, but it did hurt.

Goku's eyes widened in shock and alarm. Gohan somehow managed to break free from the space pod and attacked Raditz, but now he was out cold and in harm's way. His brother didn't look too pleased with his little stunt. Actually, he was powering up an attack to use against him. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, giving him the energy to jump to his feet and grab him from behind, preventing him from attacking his son or anyone else, at least for a little while.

"Piccolo, use that attack on him again! I'll hold him, hurry!" Goku groaned when he felt Raditz elbow him in the ribs. He held on tighter, unwilling to miss this opportunity no matter how much pain he was in. He had to protect Gohan at all costs.

Raditz growled and thrashed around, trying to break free from Goku's hold. "Fool! As if he has enough power to kill me!"

Goku chuckled. "He does if you can't dodge it."

"You would die too. Are you sure you want to make that sacrifice for this mudball?" Raditz twisted in Goku's grip and nearly got away, but Goku was unrelenting.

"I do what I have to."

"Idiot! It's not worth it!" Raditz glanced over at Piccolo, now with one arm and badly beaten, who was powering up his Special Beam Cannon. He had to admit, it was a doozy of an attack. If he hadn't dodged it the first time he used it, he probably would have been dealing with a severe injury that would have seriously handicapped him. If the green man managed to summon that kind of power again and make a direct hit, he would be lucky to survive. He was weakened through a few lucky blows from Kakarrot and Piccolo, and then that attack from the hybrid brat. It was infuriating.

Goku squeezed Raditz tighter, refusing to let go. "Don't tell me you're afraid to die."

Raditz scoffed. "It won't kill me. You, maybe, but I will live." He swallowed hard when his scouter gave a new reading on Piccolo's power. It was over 1400. Just because it wasn't enough to kill him didn't mean it wouldn't hurt like hell. He wasn't looking forward to it. He renewed his efforts to free himself.

"I don't think you will," Goku told him. The truth was, he wasn't sure if Piccolo's attack would be enough to kill Raditz. It didn't matter. It would injure him badly enough that even if he died in the process, Piccolo would be able to finish him off. He wasn't thrilled about leaving the planet with Piccolo still around and no one strong enough to defeat him, but he knew the others would wish him back with the dragon balls. He just hoped he would be back before Piccolo could take over the world and destroy half the population. He hoped his family would be safe. He didn't want to leave them, but he had to do this to save them from a greater threat than his old rival. There were greater threats out there, and his brother was one of them. Unfortunate, but true.

Raditz snarled. "You're more of a fool than I thought. You'll die. Good riddance. You're a disgrace to our race."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Fool."

They both sucked in a deep breath when they heard Piccolo yell, "Special Beam Cannon!"

…

Bulma was not a huge fan of flying with Yamcha. The way he held her didn't make her feel well-supported and she was afraid he would drop her and she would fall to her death. She was going at speeds greater than any of her capsule vehicles could go with only his strength keeping her from falling out of the sky. She also didn't like the wind whipping in her face or the fact that her hair got horribly tangled. She didn't like how cold it was higher in the atmosphere. In all, flying was an unpleasant experience for her and she wished she didn't have to do it. Alas, sometimes it was a necessity. Right now, it was necessary to get to the battle between Raditz and Piccolo and Goku before anyone got killed.

It seemed like they had been flying forever when Yamcha told her he could feel one of the smaller powers, either Goku or Piccolo, fading, and that a fourth enormous power level sprang up out of nowhere. Then a few seconds later, the largest power level, presumably Raditz, lowered substantially. Then one of the lower power levels, again either Goku or Piccolo, started rising to new heights, probably in preparation for some ki attack. He hoped it was Goku using a kamehameha wave, but he didn't think it was Goku's power that was rising. That only left Piccolo, which could be either good or bad.

"Yamcha, come on, we need to hurry," Bulma urged. "Something terrible could be happening."

"I know that, Bulma," he said. He was already flying as fast as he could. There was nothing he could do to get them there sooner. "We have to trust Goku to hold him off 'til he gets help."

Bulma frowned and closed her eyes. She couldn't feel ki like the others. It was a skill she had never developed though they tried teaching her how. Now she was wishing she took their lessons more seriously. She wanted to get some idea of what was going on.

"We're almost there, don't worry."

"I'm not worried," she murmured. She didn't quite believe herself. "Goku can beat him. He's never lost when it mattered before. He won't start now."

She felt Yamcha's body tense all of a sudden. She opened one eye and looked at him. His expression was not comforting. His brows slowly knit together and his mouth hardened. "What? What's wrong, Yam? Do you know what's going on?"

He nodded slowly. "It's Goku's power. I can't feel it anymore." He swallowed. "I can feel the other guy's power dropping, which is good, but Goku…"

"Goku?" Bulma felt file rising in her throat. She swallowed it back, refusing to believe anything bad had happened to her little Goku. He might be hurt, but he was alive. He couldn't die. He was indestructible. Practically immortal.

They didn't say anymore as they continued on to the battle scene. Neither wanted to believe what they thought was the only explanation for Goku's power suddenly dropping from Yamcha's perception. The good news was, Raditz was apparently in the same condition. Maybe it wasn't what they thought. Maybe it was actually Piccolo who died. Maybe… maybe… Several minutes later Yamcha landed in the open field near a giant crater where the fight took place. He set Bulma on her feet and looked around for his friend, but he didn't see him. Not until he checked the ground, at least. When he spotted Goku's body lying in the grass, he ran over and knelt down next to him and felt for a pulse. Nothing.

"Bulma," he croaked out, "Bulma, I think he's dead."

"Of course he's dead, you moron."

Yamcha twisted around to see Piccolo standing behind him, holding his left shoulder with his right hand. He could see rivulets of purple blood trickling between his fingers. He nearly gagged. Piccolo lost his arm in the fight. At least that would give him an advantage if they got into a fight. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Piccolo sneered at him. "I mean I killed him. Both of them. It was his choice."

Bulma staggered over to where Goku's body lay and fell to her knees. She couldn't breathe. She felt like her lungs couldn't take in any air. Her best friend, dead? It wasn't possible. It just wasn't possible. She refused to believe it. She fought back the tears that were trying to fall. She had to be strong. At least until she told Chi-Chi and Go—Gohan! She looked around frantically, searching for the little boy.

"Where's Gohan?"

"The kid's over there," Piccolo said, gesturing with his head. "Don't worry about him. Listen, before he died, the saiyan said there's two other saiyans that were listening through his communication device. I mentioned the dragon balls and they're probably going to come to get them. He said they're a year away, and they're even stronger than him, so we need to train. I'm taking the boy with me. He's got potential."

Yamcha stared at Piccolo incredulously. "You can't take Gohan! What about his mother?"

"What about her?" Piccolo snorted. "She'll live without him. It's only a year."

"That's a long time," Bulma muttered.

"Whatever." Piccolo turned away from them and screamed as he grew a new arm. He flexed it and clenched his new hand into a fist. He walked over to Gohan's prone form and unceremoniously picked him up, threw him over his shoulder, and flew away.

Yamcha jumped to his feet. "We can't let him get away with this!"

"Yamcha!" Bulma shouted, "Don't worry about it right now! He doesn't mean to hurt Gohan, so let's concern ourselves with this." She sighed heavily and stroked Goku's hair. "You would sacrifice yourself, you big dope."

"Do you think he's really dead?" Yamcha asked, pointing to Raditz. "I thought I felt a trace of his ki a few minutes ago."

Bulma looked over at the huge saiyan and frowned. She hoped he was dead. She hated him. He was the reason her friend was dead, the reason his son was taken away by a psychopath, and the reason she wasn't currently enjoying her wedding reception. He ruined her whole day, her perfect wedding, and her – her whole life! She clenched her teeth and stood up, stomped over to his body, and kicked him hard in the side. She wished he could feel it. She might not be the strongest fighter on the planet, but she was pretty strong in her own right. Her nose wrinkled when she saw the gaping hole on the right side of his chest. It was almost exactly where Goku was hurt in his fight against Piccolo at the last World Martial Arts Tournament. She took the scouter off his ear and pushed the button to cut the transmission it was still sending to his comrades on some other planet.

She shrieked and jumped away from his body when she thought she heard a low groan. A stream of blood ran out of the corner of his mouth. He was dead, wasn't he? She inched closer to him and poked him with her toe. He flinched. She screamed. He was alive.

"What?" Yamcha yelled. "What is it, B?"

"He's not dead!"

"What?" Yamcha ran over to Bulma and looked down at the saiyan's body. He gasped when he saw his chest barely rise and fall with shallow breaths. No, he wasn't dead. Not yet, anyway. Just unconscious. He started gathering a ball of energy in his hand to end his life once and for all. He was about to throw it when he felt a hand restraining him. "B? What are you doing?"

"Don't kill him, Yam," she said. "Look, I hate him as much as you do and I want him dead, but think. If we keep him alive, I can study him. Maybe learn some sort of weakness we can exploit when the other saiyans come."

"Bulma, that's way too dangerous. He would hurt you. He might kill you! No, there's no question. Bulma, he will kill you if you keep him alive. Don't do it."

She stepped between Raditz's body and her fiancé-should-be-husband. She shook her head. "No, I have a way I can keep him in a coma for as long as I want. Don't worry about it. He won't be any danger to me or anyone else. Trust me."

Yamcha released the energy he had gathered. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"No, but I think it would be unwise to let this opportunity slip away. He said the other saiyans are stronger. I have reason to believe him." She crossed her arms over her chest. Memories of Vegeta as a young boy flitted through her mind. If he was that strong then, how strong would he be now as an adult? She hated to think. Was he really as bad as Raditz said he was? Was he a horrible killer? Maybe she could talk to him, make him change. She wanted to believe she could, but she knew it would be stupid to hope for such a miracle. They needed to go into battle prepared. If that meant learning about saiyans from Raditz, then so be it. He was their key to their salvation from the others. "Let's take him to Capsule Corp, ok?"

"I still don't think this is a good idea," Yamcha grumbled as he took Bulma in his arms. "I'll take you back to the compound and come get him with a jet. Carrying him all the way wouldn't be easy."

"Yeah," Bulma agreed, "he is kind of huge."

"That's an understatement."

"Well, it's settled then. Let's hurry so he doesn't have time to regain consciousness and sneak away." Bulma didn't like the idea of taking Raditz into her home and treating his injuries. He didn't deserve that service. But a live saiyan was much more useful to her than a dead one.

…

Vegeta stopped chewing. That was certainly some interesting information. There were magical balls on Earth that had the power to bring people back from the dead? The power to grant any wish at all? He tossed the empty piece of exoskeleton aside and swallowed. If he could go to Earth and make a wish using these 'dragon balls,' then perhaps he could get the power he needed to finally kill Frieza. It was worth a shot. He smirked. "Nappa, how would you like to be immortal?" he asked.

Nappa looked over at his prince, eyebrow raised. "It would be great, Vegeta, but how?"

"Let's take a little trip to Earth. I hear they have a wish-granting dragon." He stood up and brushed bits of exoskeleton and ash from his armor. "Besides, I need to avenge Raditz. The fool got himself killed." He sighed, somewhat sadly, and crossed his arms over his chest. It was unfortunate that in one battle two of the four remaining saiyans died, pitted against each other. He shook his head and started for his space pod. "Come on, Nappa, it'll take us a year to get there. We need to make sure we have a good head start so if Frieza sends any of his goons after us we won't find a destroyed planet and a welcoming committee when we arrive."

"He'll know where we're going. He could reroute our pods when he finds out." Nappa grabbed the last piece of their meal roasting over the fire and followed Vegeta to the pods.

It was a risk Vegeta was willing to take. Anyway, something told him Frieza wouldn't kill him for going to Earth. He couldn't explain it, but it was a gut feeling, an instinct, and he had never been wrong before. Along with that, he couldn't explain the feeling of apprehension that grew with every step he took closer to his space pod and his next destination, as if there were some invisible force pushing him away. At the same time, it felt like it was something he _should_ do, something that perhaps he should have done long ago. The conflicting feelings were confusing him. He didn't know what to think. So he focused on his anger. The earthlings killed Raditz, one of his only comrades, one of his anchors to reality, a man who had become more than a comrade, but a friend, almost a brother. He knew he should have had attachments, and he honestly hadn't thought he did, but when he learned Raditz died, he felt a deep pain in his chest. He was going to get revenge. Immortality, maybe, but definitely revenge.

…

He blinked his eyes open. He rubbed his eyes. When he reopened his eyes, he saw the same thing as before. He was surrounded on all sides by yellow, puffy clouds that reminded him of his nimbus. He was standing on a narrow paved walkway through the clouds, along with hundreds of small wisps of white mist. Strangely enough, the mist made sounds similar to voices, but they sounded faint and distant. All the puffs of mist were moving in the same direction, which was the direction he was facing. He looked down the path and saw a huge building with the word "WELCOME" over the entrance. He didn't recognize it. He rubbed the back of his neck and cocked his head to the side. What a weird place.

"Where am I?" he wondered aloud.

"You're dead. This is the check-in station between dimensions."

Goku turned to the side and saw Kami standing behind him. He smiled. "Kami! What are you doing here? You're not dead, too, are you?"

The Guardian of Earth shook his head and pushed Goku forward, guiding him down the pathway toward the imposing building. "No, I'm not dead, Goku. I brought you here to make a special request of King Yemma. As you can see, you still have your physical body, unlike the ret of these souls." He gestured with his hand to all the tiny blobs of mist.

"Wow! These are people?" Goku bent over and poke one. It shouted at him indignantly. At least, he thought it was shouting. He reeled back and apologized. He walked alongside Kami as he made his way to the front of the line. "So what do you want to ask King Yemma?"

"I want you to go train with King Kai. You see, there are more saiyans on their way to Earth. They'll arrive in a year. You are not nearly strong enough to defeat them, but if you train with him you will gain much power. If your friends wait a year to wish you back to life, you will have plenty of time to train and prepare for them."

"Oh," Goku said, rubbing his chin. "I guess that makes sense."

Kami glanced over his shoulder. "Goku, you're not going to have to do this alone."

"What do you mean?"

"Tien Shinhan will be joining you."

"You mean…?"

"Yes, Goku, he died from the wound he received from Raditz."

The light-hearted saiyan scowled when he heard the name of his brother. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Raditz. Where's he? I haven't seen him."

Kami sighed. "That's because he's not dead."

Goku never felt so helpless before in his entire existence as he watched Tien Shinhan making his way through the crowd of disembodied souls toward Kami and him. He wasn't on Earth and Raditz was still alive. Was he hurt? Would he be able to kill anyone else? Could Piccolo finish him off? What about Gohan? Would Raditz take him away? What would Chi-Chi do if she lost him? For that matter, how would she deal with knowing he was dead? His brows furrowed as his determination grew. He was going to make it to King Kai and train as hard as he could for a year. When he was wished back to life, he was going to show those saiyans what it meant to mess with Earth. They would pay for the pain they caused.

_A/N: Raditz is a lot stronger in my AU than in canon, which is why he was able to survive. Why, then, couldn't he defeat Piccolo and Goku? Same as in the CU, he severely underestimated them, which allowed them to get the advantage. The stronger warrior isn't always the victor. Besides, I, like many of you, like Raditz and want to keep him around, so there. Still, Vegeta thinks he's dead and now he's bent on revenge. That ain't canon, folks. :)_

_So how far can a saiyan's telepathy work? Apparently a few hundred light-years._

_Further updates: I'm working on chapter 51 now. Chapter 50 took a long time for me to write. It was kind of fluffy and I'm out of practice writing fluff. I'm also looking for jobs and I should have an interview this week for a job that seems promising. If I do get a job, I will unfortunately have less time to write, but I won't abandon my stories. It might take longer to update and such. But since I don't have a job yet, there's no use worrying about that, is there?_

_Beta-read by lilpumpkingirl._

_Review!_


	40. One Year

One Year

He felt the emptiness and it made him nauseous. The void was unbearable, in place of what should have been another's consciousness rubbing against his own, in constant contact even if not fully aware of each other. That conscious, that companionship, was torn from him by a weakling fool. It infuriated him, but more than that, it hurt. He could have berated himself for allowing himself an attachment, but he wasn't going to. He wouldn't dishonor his comrade like that. He was worthy of his attachment. He stuck with him through more than he could name. Despite his callous attitude, insults, their arguments, fights, though he degraded him, humiliated him, hurt him, and even when he pushed him away, rejected him, hated him, and shut him out of his mind, he stuck with him faithfully, loyally. He was true to the crown though it no longer held any meaning. The kingdom was gone, yet he lived to serve his prince. How could he dishonor him in death?

He held his head in his hands and took a deep, calming breath. Yes, he was angry. Yes, he was grieving. He would have his revenge, though. He would not let his comrade die without seeking justice. He entered the coordinates to the puny mudball on the opposite edge of the galaxy and entered the command to launch. There was no sense in waiting. He wasn't going to tell his master where he was going. He didn't care if he was punished for his rash actions. He didn't care about anything but vengeance. The prospect of also gaining immortality only sweetened the deal. Maybe he would find revenge for his comrade _and_ his people on one backwater planet. He could have laughed. As if he would ever be so fortunate. He shifted into a more comfortable position as his pod levitated off the ground and shot into the sky.

'One year,' he thought. 'In one year I will have my revenge. I hope you're ready, Earth.'

…

Bulma sat in the chair next to the bed in the infirmary and held her face in her hands. She couldn't believe it when Tien Shinhan died. She wasn't as close to him as her other friends, but it was still a shock when he died. They got him to the infirmary too late. Raditz killed him. Krillin was fine. After a couple days laid up in bed he was back on his feet and already training for the coming saiyans. And Goku…her Goku, her best friend, her little Goku, he was gone. She felt tears streaming down her face before she was aware of crying. She sniffled and swallowed back the lump in her throat. Of course it hurt; she would grieve for him even though she knew he would be brought back to life in eleven months. She wiped her tears away and looked up at the bed. On it lay the reason for her grief. She hated him. No, it was deeper than that. She loathed him. How could this monster come into her life and destroy it like he had? He took two of her friends away from her _after_ ruining her wedding – and she still wasn't married – and told her that her childhood friend didn't care about her. Hell, he said he didn't remember her. What hurt the most was that she remembered Vegeta as he was. She didn't want to believe he changed, especially not in the way Raditz said he did. Even if he never did come back to Earth, she would have liked to have remembered him as he was, always believing he was never _able_ to return, that he did care for her and her family. Basically, she wanted an ideal memory of him. That was shattered now.

She straightened her back and picked up her clipboard from the table next to the bed and started jotting down notes about his vitals, appearance, everything. The reason for keeping this beast alive was to learn from him so they would hopefully have an advantage when they fought the other saiyans. She really didn't want anyone to fight Vegeta. Despite what Raditz said, she still wanted to believe that deep down, he wasn't a killer. He wasn't a monster. He was a scared little boy forced to do terrible things against his will. But Raditz, well, she wasn't going to give him the benefit of the doubt. He didn't deserve it. She sighed when she saw the notes she'd taken on him over the past month. So far she hadn't discovered anything of particular interest. The only known weakness he had was his tail, which was extremely sensitive like Goku's had been when he was young. She tossed the clipboard on the table and crossed her legs. She was frustrated with him. Were saiyans really that tough?

_"Where's Vegeta? What happened?"_

_ Her father knelt down in front of her and laid his hands on her shoulders. "Honey, he was shot. He's been taken to the infirmary. Dr. Nienstedt is taking care of him."_

_ She gasped. "He was _shot?_ Is he ok? Oh, no, I have to go see him!" She was firmly held in place by her father's hands. She struggled against him until she wore herself out. Her head was still pounding, making her feel light-headed. She sank to her knees._

_ "Bulma, you have to wait until Dr. Nienstedt removes the bullet. Then you can visit him." He chuckled and slowly shook his head in wonder. "You don't need to worry about him, dear. He's going to be fine. That boy is darn near indestructible."_

Bulma ran her hands through her tangled hair and tilted her head back to look at the plain white ceiling. Of course saiyans were tough. She already knew that. Bullets, if they actually managed to hit without the saiyan putting up a defense, were ineffective. Long falls did nothing to them. She distinctly remembered Vegeta stepping off his balcony and landing on the ground below, standing up, and walking off as if he had taken a small step down. And Goku. That guy could keep fighting when he should have been dead. Hole in his chest? Not a problem. Arms and legs rendered useless? He still managed to defeat Piccolo. His skull was harder than any known metal, she was sure. He could land on his head after falling from the sky and he would sit up, rub his head, and jump to his feet to start again. So was that it, then? Were saiyans really invulnerable?

She snorted and rubbed her shoulders in a vain attempt to ease the tension in them. She remembered trying to keep Raditz in a coma. The drug developed for humans to serve such a purpose was too weak. He was unconscious for two weeks, so she figured it was working well enough, but then he started to rouse. Turns out he had only been unconscious because of the wound he received from Piccolo. Once his body recovered naturally, he woke up despite the drug pumping through his veins. She had been in the infirmary with him when it happened, which was both a good and bad thing. It was good in that she was there to stop him from getting away when he was unwatched, but it was bad in that it scared the hell out of her. When she saw him trying to sit up she screamed and punched him as hard as she could. Thankfully, he was still weak and the blow knocked him out. Then she tripled the amount of the drug in the IV to make sure he wouldn't wake up again. He hadn't so far. Any human with that amount in their system would have died, but not this stupid saiyan.

"Maybe I should kill you while I have the chance," she mumbled. "You're here, helpless, and I'm the one keeping you alive. It doesn't make any sense. You ruined my life." Her hands clenched into fists. She wanted him to hurt the way she was hurting. She felt rage building in her chest. Someday it would burst and she might do something she would regret. "You killed Goku! Your own brother! You bastard!"

Bulma jumped when she heard the door to the infirmary open. She spun her chair around to see who was coming in. She released her breath and smiled slightly when she saw her mother walking in with a tray of cookies and a glass of milk. "Hello, dear, I wanted to check up on you."

"Why?" Bulma reached out and took a cookie off the tray.

Mrs. Brief shrugged and sat on the edge of the bed near Raditz's feet. "You've been in here an awful lot, honey. I'm worried you're going to make yourself sick the way you're not eating or sleeping."

Bulma munched on her cookie thoughtfully. She didn't respond right away. She looked over at Raditz. If not for the different hair, she might have been able to mistake him for Goku when she looked at his profile. She wondered if this was what Goku would have been had he not fallen and hit his head as a baby. Would he have been a killer too? A monster that committed genocide to sell planets? It was unthinkable. Goku was so gentle. "Do you think he's a bad man, Mom?"

The blonde woman shrugged. "I don't know, honey. He's done some terrible things, but I don't know if it's because that's what he's like or if that's what he's had to do." She handed the milk to Bulma and picked a cookie to nibble on.

"You're too forgiving." Bulma finished her cookie and wiped her fingers on her pants.

Mrs. Brief set the tray of cookies on the table and stood up. "Maybe. Why don't you leave the infirmary for a while? You've been in here too long. You need to get out and have some fun."

"Yeah, you're right." Bulma stood up and stretched. "Want to go to the mall with me?"

"I'd love to, sweetie."

The blue-haired woman snatched another cookie from the tray and led the way out of the room. She shut the door and locked it. She didn't want anyone else going in there and messing anything up. Her mother was right. She had been allowing the saiyan to take all her time and energy. She hadn't been to headquarters to keep up with her duties as vice president of Capsule Corporation since he came, and she hadn't been to her laboratory to work on any projects for at least two weeks. She hadn't even left the compound since she brought him to the infirmary to stay. Going out would do her some good and take her mind off all her problems.

…

"I am so hungry," Goku whined. He collapsed on Snake Way and looked up at the pink, cloudless sky, holding his stomach with both hands. It growled loudly. "I can't go on."

Tien stopped and turned around. He rolled his eyes and pointed to the end of Snake Way. "I'm sure King Kai will have food when we get there. Come on, Goku, we have to keep going. Our friends are counting on us." He held out his hand to help Goku up to his feet.

Goku grabbed his hand and frowned when he saw the road stretching on endlessly before them. King Kai's place was nowhere in sight. They had been traveling on it for days, weeks. How many miles had they gone? Too many to count. The journey was miserable. There was no food and they had no beds to sleep in. He found out the hard way that the edge of the road was sharp. He hurt his arm pretty bad once when he was sleeping. There were other times he nearly fell off the path when he was asleep. Had it not been for Tien, he would have ended up in hell.

"I hope a year is long enough to reach the end," he said.

Tien resumed walking. "Kami wouldn't send us to King Kai if he didn't think we could make it with time to train. Let's get moving."

"You're right." Goku ran to catch up with him and together they continued their trek down Snake Way, hoping against hope that they would see the end soon.

…

Krillin back-flipped over a side kick from Yamcha, twisted in the air, and kicked his opponent in the head before landing cleanly on his feet. Yamcha staggered back a few steps before regaining his balance. He bent forward and raised his fists, ready to strike. Their spar continued as they hopped, ran, and flew across the platform of the Lookout. They rushed past Yajirobe, who was, as usual, sitting under one of Mr. Popo's trees eating a snack. They flew by Chiaotzu, making him spin around in the air.

Yamcha delivered a hard uppercut that Krillin wasn't fast enough to block. He skidded across the smooth tile floor before coming to a stop when he hit a tree. He groaned and rubbed his head, then got to his feet and took a deep breath. "I think it's time for a break," he told Yamcha.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

The two warriors sat in the shade and caught their breath. They had been sparring day in and day out for the past two months it seemed like. They barely took the time to eat and sleep before they were out fighting again, trying to perfect their techniques, increase their speed, strengthen their attacks, and make their movements overall more efficient. Still, they didn't feel like they were improving very much and Kami wasn't giving them any pointers. They were growing frustrated with their training. They weren't doing anything they hadn't done before while training under Master Roshi. When Kami summoned them to train with him, they were expecting an intense training regimen that would increase their power like it had Goku's when he trained with Kami for three years. Instead they were left to their own devices without guidance. They didn't know what else to do.

Krillin folded his hands in his lap and looked around the Lookout. "How do you think Goku and Tien are doing?"

"If I know those two, they're training hard. We're going to have to train even harder if we have any hope of keeping up with them." Yamcha laughed and leaned against the tree. He could imagine those two sparring. They would be unbelievably powerful by the time they were wished back if what Kami said about training with King Kai was true. In a way he was jealous that they got such a privilege, but at the same time he wasn't willing to die for such an opportunity.

"You're right about that." Krillin frowned. "Think we'll be strong enough to face the saiyans? That guy was insanely powerful, and he said the others were even stronger."

"Yeah, so? We're getting stronger too." Yamcha smirked. "When those saiyans come they won't know what hit 'em."

His confidence, though blown out of proportion, was infectious. Krillin grinned, imagining himself single-handedly defeating the saiyans. It was unrealistic and he knew it, but it never hurt to think positive. He found that things usually turned out a lot better when he kept a good attitude. After resting a few more minutes, he and Yamcha got up and started training separately, working more on strength and speed than fighting techniques. There was plenty of time for that later. Improved technique would be useless without the power to back them up, and power without technique was wasted. As nice as it was to be able to train all day, every day with no interruptions, they were eager for the part when Kami would oversee their training and teach them what he taught Goku. They had no idea what to expect, and that made them nervous. Maybe Kami didn't think they were ready for such intense training yet and that was why he was waiting and watching them as they trained themselves. Once they reached the level he needed them to reach, then he would step in and help. It was difficult to be patient for so long, but they forced themselves to keep training as hard as they could to attain a new level of power adequate for training with the Guardian of Earth.

And so they trained for another month before their patience finally wore out. They had just finished another spar when Krillin and Yamcha spotted Kami walking across the platform of the Lookout, speaking with Mr. Popo about his gardens. They ran over to him, ready to confront him about their training.

"Kami!" Yamcha called as he ran over to the old deity. "We'd like to talk to you."

Kami turned to face them and leaned heavily on his staff as he waited for them to come closer. He already knew what they had in mind and had actually been conferring with Mr. Popo about their readiness for the next step in their training.

They came to a stop a few feet short of Kami and Mr. Popo. Their faces showed their fierce determination to get what they wanted. "Kami, when are _you_ going to train us?" Krillin asked. "We've been here for three months and you haven't taught us anything!"

"Yeah, teach us what you taught Goku! We _need_ to get stronger to defeat the saiyans! Stop holding out on us."

Hearing their conversation, Chiaotzu flew over and hovered over their shoulders, hoping that Kami would divulge the secrets of Goku's training. While Kami took on a contemplative expression, the warriors leaned forward, wondering what words of wisdom he would speak. They were taken aback when he started laughing. "You want me to teach you what I taught Goku? Well I'll tell you! I didn't teach him anything! You understand? Nothing!"

The warriors nearly fell over. Nothing? Kami taught Goku nothing? Then how did he explain Goku's incredible power increase during the three years that he trained at the Lookout in preparation for Piccolo, Jr.? Yamcha was the first to form words. "Nothing? What do you mean nothing? Explain!"

Kami took a step toward the central palace, his staff clunking heavily on the stone tile. "Mr. Popo, show them to the Pendulum Room. You know what to do."

"Yes, Kami." Mr. Popo folded his arms behind his back and walked to the palace with the warriors following close behind. "The Pendulum Room is a special place where the boundaries between the past, present, and future may be crossed." They entered the palace and Mr. Popo took them to the left, down a long hallway that curved to the right with many doors along the way. He opened one and led them inside. The room was dark and smelled dusty, as if it hadn't been used in years. There was an enormous pendulum swinging over the middle of the room, where there was a circle drawn on the floor. "Stand inside the circle and I will send you to a place in the past. Remember nothing you do will affect the events of the present time. Good luck."

…

"There, look!" Goku pointed far into the distance and hopped up and down excitedly. "Tien, it's the end!"

"What are you talking about, Goku?" Tien levitated off Snake Way to get a better view. He nearly fell into the golden clouds when what he saw confirmed what Goku said. There, far off, was the end of the road. He didn't see anything at the end, but maybe they were still too far to see King Kai's place.

"Come on, let's go!" Goku didn't wait for Tien before he started sprinting to the end. They had been on Snake Way for three and a half months and he was ready to be at the end. He was tired and hungry. A nap and a big lunch was exactly what he needed. He ran all the way to the end, his momentum nearly forcing him off the end. "What? There's nothing here!"

Tien came up behind him. He frowned when he reached the same conclusion as Goku. There was nothing at the end. Just an endless expanse of clouds. There was nowhere to go. They were at the end of the line. Unless they went down into hell, there was nothing. "What is the meaning of this? We didn't spend over three months running on this stupid road just to come to a dead end!"

Goku squatted and rested his elbows on his knees. There had to be something somewhere. Kami and King Yemma wouldn't send them down Snake Way if there wasn't anything at the end. He rubbed his chin. Down led to hell. But what about up? He tilted his head back and searched the sky for anything. He almost overlooked it, but then he saw it, a tiny planet floating in the sky several hundred meters above Snake Way. A grin spread across his face. He jumped into the air and cheered. "Tien, look, up there! That must be King Kai's place!"

"Hey, I think you're right. So what are we waiting for?" Tien smiled and crouched down, ready to jump.

"Yeah! Whoo! Yippee! We found King Kai!" Goku jumped high into the sky. Tien followed after him, and within a few seconds they noticed their speed increasing as the tiny planet's gravity pulled them to it. Now, instead of going up, they were falling to the ground. Before they knew it, they were hitting the ground. Hard.

They groaned as they sat up, feeling for the first time gravity ten times greater than Earth's. To say it was hard to move would be an understatement. Goku was the first one to make it to his feet, but he was unable to stand up straight. He felt like his body was being dragged to the ground by powerful, invisible hands. He grit his teeth and took one step that sent tingles exploding through his leg. Beside him, Tien was finally getting to his feet.

"What kind of place is this?" Tien asked. He could hardly stay on his feet. It was so much easier to lie down and not even think about moving.

Goku would have shrugged, but it wasn't worth the effort it would take to move his shoulders. "I don't know. Where do you think King Kai is?"

They looked around at the small planet. There was a brick road wrapping around the planet. Trees were spotted around haphazardly, providing shade to the thick green grass. They didn't see anyone around. Tien took a step and almost fell to the ground as the gravity brought his foot down faster than he was expecting. "If we follow that road," he said, panting, "maybe we'll find where King Kai lives. This planet's not very big, how hard can it be to find him?"

"Yeah." Step. "You're probably." Step. "Right." Step. Goku paused and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Man, this gravity's intense."

Step. "Tell me." Step. "About it." Step. "Maybe this." Step. "Is our training." Step.

Slowly, step by agonizing step, the two warriors from Earth made their way to the road and started following it around the planet. They were surprised their feet didn't sink into the ground, forever planting them in one place. They were sweating heavily and panting by the time they saw a small, domed house up ahead. There was a red 1957 Chevrolet parked on the road and one tree in front of the house. Whoever lived there, probably King Kai, must have been inside because they still didn't see anyone. Goku smelled something sweet, something enticing as they drew closer. Fruit. And the smell was coming from the large tree. Ignoring the soreness in his body, he hurried as fast as he could over to the tree and tried to climb it, but the gravity kept pulling him down before he got more than a foot off the ground.

Tien shook his head and went to the door of the house and knocked on it. "King Kai?"

The door was answered by a short, blue man with long whiskers and antennae. When he opened the door, an energetic monkey shot out and climbed the tree where Goku was still struggling to get a snack. "Who are you?" the man asked. "I don't get visitors very often."

Tien bowed respectfully. "My name is Tien Shinhan," he said, "and that man over there is my friend, Goku Son. We were sent here to train with you. You are King Kai, are you not?"

"I am." King Kai stepped outside and watched Goku attempting to climb the tree, the only thing on his mind being food after over three months without eating. King Kai started laughing. He had to turn away from the humorous scene to gain control of himself. "You know, I don't train anybody who comes to my door. First, you have to pass a test."

"A test?"

King Kai nodded sagely. "You have to make me laugh."

Tien's eyes widened. "You're kidding, right?" He couldn't be given a more difficult task. He wasn't known for his sense of humor. Goku would have no trouble. He was naturally funny. But Tien… he didn't know a single joke, and even if he did, his delivery skills were lacking. This was going to be a tough test, indeed.

…

Bulma sank down into her chair at the saiyan's side and groaned. She couldn't figure anything out. "It's been six whole months and still nothing! No weaknesses! These saiyans are built to last." She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt and scowled at the comatose saiyan. She reached over and picked up the scouter from the table next to the bed and turned it over in her hands. She considered using it to contact the other saiyans. But what good would that do? Would she only succeed in making them mad? Would Vegeta remember her? It was really her fear that he wouldn't that kept her from trying to figure out how to send a transmission. She was mildly surprised that they hadn't tried contacting Raditz. But then, if they believed he was dead, they would have no reason to bother. She sighed and set the scouter down.

"So you saiyans used to send your babies to other planets to destroy them, huh?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "That's pretty sick. Making babies into killers. You must be a race of monsters. I can hardly believe Goku's a saiyan. He's the lucky one, I think." Bulma shook her head and checked the life support equipment Raditz was hooked up to. She wasn't sure he even needed it, but it was better to be safe than sorry. "For being in a coma, you sure are healthy. You don't gain weight, you don't lose weight. Your blood pressure is fine, blah, blah." She couldn't remember when she started talking to Raditz. He couldn't hear her. She wouldn't want to converse with him anyway. Not for real.

At least she wasn't spending all her time at his side anymore. She checked up on him four times a day, but she had gotten back into her usual routine, spending most of her days in her lab working on various inventions, and occasionally going to headquarters to keep up with paperwork and oversee the projects she was heading or attend board meetings. She still wouldn't allow any other medical personnel to take care of Raditz; she was afraid they would accidentally or purposefully wake him from his coma.

While she was away, her mother would sometimes stop in and sit by his side, talk to him, wash him up, or clean his room. She was finding it hard to hold a grudge against the saiyan for what he had done. He looked so peaceful sleeping. It was easy to forget the malice behind his actions. Her caring nature, as usual, overrode her reason. She didn't like that Bulma was holding him in a coma, yet she was unwilling to do anything about it. She did harbor some feelings of fear and distrust.

Bulma completed her check-up and wiped the sweat off his face with a rag. He always seemed to be hot, even when she turned the air conditioning on in his room. It was only April. It was still chilly outside. Maybe it was because he was a saiyan. She remembered Vegeta had a high body temperature. Raditz did, too. Maybe it was because he was in a coma. Perhaps, in some way, that messed with his body's ability to maintain homeostasis. But that didn't make sense. His vitals were stable from day one, never fluctuating much at all. In the end, she stopped guessing and simply wiped the sweat off his face without a second thought.

"I'm not going to find any weaknesses, am I?" she asked him. She thought she saw the faintest hint of a smirk. Honestly, it wouldn't surprise her. "Well then, maybe I should kill you since you're useless to me." She felt her stomach twist at that thought. No, she couldn't kill him. It wasn't that she liked him. Definitely not. She still hated him for what he had done. But her anger had ebbed enough for her compassionate side to overpower her rage. She couldn't kill him. Nor could she let him ever rouse from his coma. She was stuck with him until she figured out something else to do with him. "Don't worry, big guy, I'm not going to kill you. You're much too handsome for that," she joked.

…

King Kai was waxing his recently repaired car and watching Tien and Goku train a fair distance away. He was amazed at their progress; both had incredible power and undeterred determination to grow stronger than the two saiyans heading to Earth. He admired their mindset, but he still held his reservations about their ability to defeat the saiyans. Nappa, one of the elite saiyans, was easily three times stronger than Raditz had been. Then there was Vegeta, the saiyan prince, the most powerful saiyan to live in many generations. His power was approaching ten times Raditz when he wasn't fully powered up. Goku's power especially had grown since his arrival, but whether or not it would be enough was still debatable. He was the first and only student King Kai had ever taught the Kaio-ken technique to, and with that he could make his power surge far beyond Nappa, but he still hadn't reached Vegeta's level. Goku did have the ace up his sleeve if the battle went horribly downhill. The spirit bomb.

He was the first student to truly master the most powerful technique King Kai knew. It was not surprising once he learned that Goku was himself a saiyan. A low-class saiyan, but he shared the same will, natural ability to manipulate life energy, strength, speed, and endurance of all saiyan warriors. A saiyan was the best chance at defeating a saiyan, without doubt. King Kai did want Goku to win the fight; Vegeta was evil, twisted into a killing machine with no remorse. He had seen some of his more heinous acts, witnessed some of his violent tortures, and felt the evil that Vegeta accepted when he cast aside his soul. Vegeta's life was one to pity, but it was not one to condone. It had to be ended for the sake of millions – billions, rather – of people across the universe.

The blue god finished waxing his car and walked over to the shade of the tree in front of his house. It was cooler there, a perfect place to relax. He already had a chair set up there from earlier in the day, and he sat down and folded his hands in his lap to oversee his students' training. Goku was running through a kata while Tien stood on one foot on the top of a tall pole, working on his balance and concentration. They were fine warriors, some of the best he'd seen. It was a pleasure to train them. They were hard-working and wouldn't stop trying until they completed the initial tests and new techniques. Three more months were all they had left to train in preparation for a battle that could mean the survival of their planet. He hoped they would be ready. If they weren't, he might be seeing them again soon.

…

Bulma opened the door to her laboratory and went down the stairs. She had her capsule case packed and she was ready to get started with her next adventure. She walked over to her desk, opened the top drawer, and pulled out the dragon radar. She held it in her hands and smiled. It had been a long time since she had needed to use it. She pushed the button on the top and seven circles immediately lit up all over the grid. The dragon balls, scattered all over the globe. She sighed and held the radar to her heart. 'Don't worry, guys, we'll bring you back. I hope you've trained hard, 'cause these saiyans aren't pushovers.'

She tucked the dragon radar in her pocket and went upstairs, locking her lab door behind her. On her way out of the compound she stopped in the kitchen to let her mother know she was leaving. "I'm going now, Mom. It should only take a couple weeks, tops. Take care of Raditz for me, ok?"

Mrs. Brief grabbed a paper sack from the counter and rushed over to her daughter. "Don't worry about him, honey. He'll be just fine. Here, I packed a lunch for you. Be careful!"

"I'll be fine." Bulma took the bag and hugged her mother. "See you soon."

"Goodbye, sweetie."

The blue-haired woman went outside and popped open her jet capsule. She climbed in and took off for Master Roshi's island. She wasn't going to traverse the world alone. She would have preferred better company, but all her friends were still away training, leaving Roshi as the only choice. Well, at least he was pretty strong for an old man. His skills could prove useful from time to time when she was being perfectly honest. She wasn't counting on the hunt for the dragon balls to take longer than two or three weeks, but just in case she ran into trouble she decided to start collecting them two months before the predicted arrival of the saiyans. It wouldn't hurt to have the dragon balls gathered together as long as no one came along trying to steal them. She wasn't too worried. The Red Ribbon Army was destroyed years ago and she hadn't heard from Emperor Pilaf since King Piccolo's defeat. She didn't know of anyone else in the world who had heard of the legend of the dragon balls, much less would be out searching for them.

'Maybe I should have trained a little this year. I know I would never be any real help in an actual battle, but who knows what'll happen? I might need to defend myself.' Bulma sighed and shrugged. It was too late to train seriously now. Maybe she would brush up on her kata; it had been years since she practiced, but they were deeply ingrained in her memory after hours and hours of repetition when she was younger. Sometimes she missed the thrill of a good spar, but not too much. Never enough to motivate her to get back into the habit of training. There were too many other things to occupy her time. Namely, work at Capsule Corporation.

No matter the outcome of the inevitable battle, she wanted it to be over soon. She was tired of the anticipation and she wanted to see how Vegeta had changed over the years. Would she even recognize him anymore? Maybe not. It didn't matter. She had to remember he wasn't the same Vegeta she knew. He was a monster, a killer, and he was coming to destroy Earth or use the dragon balls or who knows what. She couldn't let her feelings get in the way of reason in this case. That could prove deadly, not only to herself, but to her friends and maybe the people of Earth as well. Anyway, when it was all over, she would finally be able to marry Yamcha and carry on with life. She would have some sort of resolution with Vegeta, even if it wasn't what she had hoped for, and she could forget about him once and for all. She would figure out what to do with Raditz and she would start a family… Life would go on. After the saiyans were defeated, she could get her life back on track.

…

"Landfall in two minutes."

He blinked his eyes open. There, through the porthole, he saw his destination. A miserable little mudball planet that could hold the key to his freedom. It didn't look like much, but for some reason it stirred a feeling of comfort and peace in his heart. The unfamiliar feelings were shoved aside in favor of something a little more manageable: anger. He was going to kill the bastards who killed Raditz.

"Landfall in one minute."

His hands clenched into fists. The first thing he was going to do was find the one responsible for the death of his comrade. Then he would hunt down the 'dragon balls' and make his wish. Then he would be undefeatable. Then he could finally avenge his people.

"Prepare for impact."

He felt his pod crash into the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust. Seconds later, he heard the boom of another space pod landing nearby. He opened the hatch and was greeted with the sounds of terror he knew so well: screaming, crying, and rapid footfalls. He smirked. This was what he lived for. Chaos. Let the brief reign of terror begin.

_A/N: Yeah, had a lot going on in this chapter. I know it moved fast, but honestly, would you _want_ me to spend another chapter on their year of training? Training isn't exciting. I don't particularly like writing about it. So, boom, there goes the year and Vegeta and Nappa have arrived on Earth. Hopefully now you see why Tien died. If you don't, you'll figure it out next chapter._

_In other news, I had my interview yesterday. How did it go? I'm not sure. The place is an hour drive from home, which sucks, so I'm not sure I want it that much anyway. That's a long drive... takes some serious time away from my writing... Speaking of my writing, I'm now working on chapter 52. I've reached another mini-slump that I'm hoping to get out of soon. I think the problem is I know more exciting chapters are coming and I'm too eager to get to them to bother writing the ones leading up to them. It's also difficult to write since I have to punch my "w" key to get it to work. Hmph._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl. Yes, be jealous of her. She's already read chapter 42. Actually we're working on editing it now. ;)_

_Review! How about a contest, just for fun? Whoever can guess all the characters in the next chapter wins a prize. Like a chapter 42 preview or something, I don't know. (Hint: there's 18 characters, not including one who is mentioned but doesn't actually appear.)_


	41. Battle Begins

Battle Begins

The seven small orbs glowed a brilliant shade of orange, making the sunlight appear dim by comparison. It had been a few years since they were used, a few years since they had been collected and gathered together for the purpose of summoning the eternal dragon, Shenron. They were laid in a cluster in the white sand of a small island in the middle of the ocean, far from civilization. These were the balls that brought together a band of friends of the most powerful, good-hearted people on the planet. These were the balls that had the power to restore life, youth, or simply provide the world's most comfortable pair of underwear. For many generations they were believed to be merely a legend, forgotten in the tides of time. But one girl, one blue-haired, strong-willed, hard-headed girl brought the legend to life eleven years ago, and that same girl, now a blue-haired, strong-willed, hard-headed woman was using them again in the hopes of saving the world from certain destruction.

Bulma held her hands over the glowing dragon balls. The bright light reflected in her deep blue eyes. Her mouth formed a hard line, her brows lowered in determination. Behind her stood Master Roshi, Oolong, and Puar, who were trembling in anticipation. They had seen the dragon before and knew already how fearsome he was; Shenron was a sight they could never get used to regardless of how many times they saw him. Bulma took a deep breath and yelled, "Shenron, by your name I summon you forth!" Immediately she stepped back as a stream of light, brighter than lightning, shot up from the orbs and lit up the darkening sky, winding through the air like a snake until Shenron took form high above.

"Why have you summoned me?" Shenron's deep voice rumbled through the sky, louder than thunder. His voice alone could knock a more fearful person off his feet. "Name your wish and I shall grant it."

Through her awe it was difficult for Bulma to even remember her wish, the same wish she had recited in her mind countless times throughout the past year. She glanced over her shoulder at her friends, then back up at the impatient dragon. She swallowed. "Shenron, could you bring back to life all those Raditz killed on Earth?" She worded her wish to include anyone, including Tien and Goku, who the large saiyan killed because she didn't know how many had actually died at his hands that fateful day.

There was a long, tense moment of hesitation before Shenron's eyes glowed red. "Your wish has been granted."

"Thank you," Bulma whispered as the dragon disappeared and in a blinding flash of light, the dragon balls rose from the ground and dispersed across the planet.

Master Roshi stepped forward until he was standing next to Bulma. "So where are Goku and Tien?" he asked.

Bulma shrugged. "Maybe they're where they died?"

The old martial arts master scrunched his brows in concentration. "I don't feel their energy anywhere."

"Maybe the dragon made a mistake," Oolong said.

Bulma whirled around and pointed an accusing finger at the shape-shifting pig. "Shut up, Oolong! No one asked you! The dragon doesn't make mistakes. Maybe they're just not here…yet."

"They'd better hurry and get back, then," Master Roshi said grimly. "I feel two huge power levels to the east, and I don't think it's them."

"The saiyans," Bulma murmured.

…

"Well, boys," King Kai said, "You have mastered your training. Your halos are gone, so you must be alive again. The saiyans are probably close to Earth. Let me check their location." He was quiet for a minute, his antennae making quick, minute movements as he searched for the two saiyans traveling to Earth. He gasped. "Oh, no! They're already on Earth! You're going to have to hurry, you have to go all the way back on Snake Way! It shouldn't take too long, but the saiyans work fast. Go!"

"What?" Goku shouted, nearly ripping his hair out. "You mean they're there?"

"I thought we had more time!" Tien groaned.

"It doesn't matter now! Get moving!" King Kai yelled.

"Goodbye! Good luck!" Gregory called after them. Below him, Bubbles jumped up and down, chattering his goodbye.

The two live warriors nodded to each other and jumped from King Kai's planet, waving to Gregory, Bubbles, and their sensei as they fell to Snake Way. They landed on the road and immediately started sprinting down the winding, looping path through the clouds. They had several thousand miles to go in as little time as they could manage. Hopefully their friends on Earth would be able to hold the saiyans off long enough for them to get there and help.

…

Vegeta stepped out of his space pod and stretched his stiff muscles. He cracked his neck and knuckles while he waited for Nappa to get out of his pod a few yards away. Through the clearing cloud of dust kicked up by the pods he could see a crowd of humans gathering around, pointing at the pods, asking questions, and backing away from the edge of the crater when they spotted him. He snorted and rolled his shoulders back, lifted his chin, and crossed his arms over his chest. He could see Nappa finally emerging from his space pod and stretching out as he had. A year-long trip was enough to make anyone need to limber up.

"What do we do first, Vegeta?" Nappa asked as he finished getting his blood circulating. "Find whoever killed Raditz or look for the dragon balls?"

Vegeta levitated out of the crater and landed on the edge. Nappa followed him up. They looked around at the gathered humans, many of whom had the good sense to run away, sensing the impending danger. "We should avenge Raditz first. If someone was strong enough to kill him they may be able to cause us trouble when we're looking for the dragon balls." He pushed the button on his scouter to get a reading on the power levels of the planet. He rolled his eyes when he saw the negligible levels, with few being above the single digits. Of the few worth noting, only a handful were over 500. The two highest levels were right around 1000. They had to be the ones who killed Raditz.

"What's it say?"

"The two highest levels are directly south of us. They have to be the ones who defeated Raditz. Let's go."

"Can I kill these gawking idiots?" Nappa looked around the city, bloodlust clouding his judgment.

Vegeta sighed. "Only if you don't destroy the city. Remember, the dragon balls could be anywhere."

"You got it." Nappa raised his hand and started blasting the humans, instantly killing them. He worked fast, moving through the city, destroying life, all the while laughing at the screams of terror and the stench of fear and burning flesh. Within fifteen minutes the city was devoid of life, though it was left relatively intact. He rejoined Vegeta before they flew south to find the warriors responsible for their comrade's untimely demise.

Nappa spiraled through the clouds and laughed. "The gravity on this planet is so weak! It's like I don't weigh a thing!"

Vegeta snorted and shook his head. He was less interested in his speed advantage at the moment. He wouldn't need it anyway. His sights were set on the power levels up ahead, the ones who killed Raditz, the ones he was going to destroy in vengeance. That was his only goal. Even the dragon balls were a second thought. He still wasn't sure he believed the tale. Seven magical orbs that could grant _any_ wish? Unlikely. He'd heard other foolish legends during his lifetime. None of them were true, or at least not all they were cracked up to be. If he _could_ gain immortality, that was one thing, but he wasn't going to get his hopes up. Through the breaks in the clouds he could see they were now flying over some kind of desert wilderness with patches of green, hardy grass spotted across the dry ground. There were many high bluffs, with bare rocky faces eroded by years of sand blowing in the wind. The air was hot and dry, almost hard to breathe. It was practically a saiyan's dream come true.

The saiyan prince flew lower so the clouds could no longer obscure his view of the land, and it wasn't long before he spotted two figures standing out in the open. His scouter indicated that they were the ones he was looking for. He couldn't see them clearly from his altitude, so he gestured with his head toward them and led the way down to the ground with Nappa following closely. They landed a few yards in front of the two people with arms crossed over their chests and chins held high, arrogant smirks curling their lips. Up close, Vegeta could see who his adversaries would be. Unimpressive. A small child and a tall green-skinned man with short antennae sprouting from his forehead, unmistakably a Namekian. Neither looked pleased to welcome their company; the boy was clearly frightened, trembling visibly and whimpering, and the Namekian had a fierce scowl, his long fangs bared to the saiyans.

"A Namekian?" Vegeta asked. "Aren't you a long way from home? What are you doing on this miserable mudball?"

Nappa shrugged, not very interested in the reason for an alien being on the planet they were going to destroy. All that mattered was his strength, whether or not he would be a good challenge in battle. "Beats me. You think he's the one who killed Raditz?"

"Don't know who else would have been strong enough to do it."

Piccolo growled and slid his foot back, widening his stance in preparation for an attack. "What do you want here?"

"Yes, he's definitely the one. I recognize his voice from the scouter transmission." Vegeta clenched his hands into fists and his smirk slipped from his face, replaced by a cold glare that could have killed. "You're going to pay for what you did to my comrade."

"That's why you're here? Revenge?" Piccolo huffed. "If you're anything like your friend you'll die by my hand."

"Yeah, I'm sure. Don't get your hopes up, Namek."

"Namek?"

"Oh please, don't tell me you don't know what you are? Isn't the green skin obvious? You didn't think you belong here, do you?" Vegeta snickered. He turned to Nappa. "Maybe there's more to these dragon balls than I originally believed. Remember the stories of the magic balls of Namek? What are the odds of magic balls being on this backwater planet with a single Namekian on it? There's got to be some connection."

"Yeah. You're probably right," Nappa agreed.

"We shouldn't kill him. He'll be the one to help us find the dragon balls."

"Sure, Vegeta."

Vegeta's scouter beeped as another significant power level came into range, moving rapidly in their direction. Soon, a short, bald man wearing an orange gi landed next to the kid. He looked ready to fight. The prince quirked an eyebrow. "Who's this midget? His power level is 1100. The Namek's at 1400 and the kid's power is 1000. Not bad."

Nappa laughed and cracked his knuckles. "Not bad, but still weak. This should be easy."

"Don't underestimate them. They seem to be able to hide their true power. That's why they were able to defeat Raditz." Vegeta frowned, thinking about the low class saiyan. It was an embarrassment to his race for a saiyan warrior to be defeated by a hodgepodge group like this. His anger rose when two more warriors arrived on the scene. There was a man with long, black hair and scars on his face and a short doll-like thing with a weird hat. "Where are these fools coming from?" Vegeta grumbled. He didn't have all day to play around. He was here on business.

While the earthling warriors conversed among themselves, Vegeta pushed the button on his scouter to do another search of high power levels on the planet. The highest levels were all gathered in front of him. So these were the best the planet had to offer. At least he was saved the trouble of hunting the warriors down. He didn't see another saiyan there, so it must have been true that Raditz's brother was also killed in their battle. That gave him some satisfaction knowing the traitor was dead. It wasn't enough to lessen his anger, though. He looked again at the child. He had wild black hair, purely black eyes, and an incredible power level considering his age. He must be Kakarrot's brat. That was the only explanation. Well, no matter. He would die with the rest.

"Well, then," he said, interrupting the earthlings' friendly banter, "Are we expecting anyone else or can we get started?"

The bald man frowned and clenched his hands into fists at his sides. "As a matter of fact, we're waiting for Goku and Tien! They should be here soon."

"Goku? Tien?" Vegeta didn't recognize either name. They certainly weren't saiyan names. Supposedly the dragon balls could be used to bring someone back to life. Hadn't these idiots used the balls to bring back Kakarrot? He would have been their best bet in a fight against himself and Nappa.

"Yeah," the bald man said confidently. "When they get here, there's no way you'll be able to defeat them. If I were you, I'd leave now."

"Fortunately you're not me," Vegeta retorted. "I suppose we can wait a few minutes for this saviors of yours. No use having them interrupting a good battle."

The small band of warriors was clearly surprised that the saiyans would be willing to wait for stronger opponents. Some of them gaped openly while the others eyed them suspiciously. Vegeta couldn't care less what they were thinking. What mattered to him was revenge. "We will wait half an hour. If they aren't here by then, we'll go ahead and start killing you."

"Gee, thanks," the short man grumbled. Vegeta smirked when he heard it. He turned around and walked over to a large rock and sat down on it. Nappa came over and stood next to him.

"Why are we waiting?" the tall saiyan asked.

Vegeta set a timer on his scouter. "We're waiting to see who these other warriors are. One of them might be Kakarrot. He probably took an earthling name when he forgot his identity. I want to make him pay for betraying the throne of Vegeta-sei."

"I understand, but why do we have to wait to kill these weaklings?" Nappa frowned and looked over at the warriors who were sitting on the ground talking amongst themselves.

"So Kakarrot can watch them die, knowing he is unable to save them."

"Oh." Nappa sat down on the ground and leaned against the rock. "This is going to be boring."

"It'll be worth the wait."

"I hope so."

They looked up when they heard something above. It didn't sound like people. They squinted in the bright sunlight. There was some sort of vehicle flying overhead. Why would any humans be flying around here? It was a wasteland. Not exactly sight-seeing territory. Probably they were there to see the aliens who landed in a large city. How they managed to locate them was another question. Vegeta decided they were harmless and ignored them, turning his attention back to the earthling warriors. By watching them outside of battle he might be able to make better predictions about their fighting techniques. Would they rely more on speed or strength? Were they confident or hesitant, more likely to use ki attacks or hand-to-hand combat? How was their concentration? Would he be able to throw them off their game with words? Who was the leader? Who would be the best to go after first? Who's death would cause the largest drop in morale among their little troop? He watched them closely, studying them with a practiced eye for detail. He would know their mannerisms well by the time the fighting started.

Nappa was less patient. He closed his eyes and tried to take a nap, but after sleeping for a year he wasn't very tired. Besides, the anticipation of a good fight was making him too excited to rest. He was feeling agitated. He needed to cause some chaos or something or he would go crazy waiting. "Hey, Vegeta, can I kill some humans while we're waiting?"

Vegeta waved his hand. "Whatever. Just be careful you don't destroy the dragon balls. Remember they could be anywhere."

"Right." Nappa stood up and levitated off the ground, deciding which way to go. "Thanks, Vegeta. I'll be back soon."

The saiyan prince rolled his eyes as his bald companion flew away to kill indiscriminately. He was mildly surprised that none of the warriors went after him. Surely they knew what he was going to do. Didn't they care? Perhaps they were wiser than he initially gave them credit for; they weren't going to risk starting battle early when they were still waiting on their strongest fighters. There was also the chance that they were willing to let some lives be lost because they were counting on using the dragon balls to wish people to life. Whatever the reason for them allowing Nappa to go on a killing spree, it didn't matter. He was growing curious to see who Tien and Goku were. The others seemed content to wait for them to come and save the day. Interesting, if not delusional.

…

Bulma ran inside the pink house and headed straight for the television to turn it to the news station. She saw East City, completely devastated, and stopped breathing. Was that Vegeta's doing? The city was not in complete ruins as she had feared, but it looked like some sort of terrible storm blew through and killed every single person in the city. It was unbelievable. She shook her head, not wanting to believe her childhood friend was responsible for such a heinous act. There were two spacecrafts, it could have been the other saiyan. But didn't Raditz say Vegeta was the prince? Wouldn't he have been the one giving orders? She dismissed that thought, finding it much too uncomfortable to consider.

"Bulma? What's going on?" Master Roshi asked when he walked into the house and sat down next to her. Oolong and Puar came in with him and sat in front of the TV to watch the news report.

"They landed in East City. They apparently killed everyone before they left. No one knows where they're at now." Bulma started biting her nails, apprehension rising in her chest. Bad things were about to happen, she could feel it.

Master Roshi got up and went to the kitchen to grab them drinks. It was never easy being on the sidelines, but they were too weak to do any good in a battle with such strong opponents. They would only get in the way, if not get killed. While he was away, the camera switched to a barren land where there was a group of people sitting around. The camera zoomed in on them, and Bulma was able to recognize her friends: Gohan, Krillin, Chiaotzu, Yamcha. Piccolo was there with them, too. And several yards away, sitting by himself, was another man wearing a strange sort of armor, a royal blue bodysuit, a communication device with a red display screen over his left eye, and a coal black flame of hair rising from a deep widow's peak. Bulma's heart leaped, then sank, when she saw him. She didn't know what to feel. That was Vegeta. There was no mistaking it. He had a furry brown belt, actually a tail, around his waist, his arms were crossed over his broad chest, and he had a furious scowl on his face. Though older, he was exactly as she remembered him. But where was the other saiyan? Weren't there two of them?

"What's going on?" she breathed. "Why are they all just sitting around?"

Oolong grunted. "Who cares why? At least they're not fighting!"

"Oh, Yamcha," Puar whimpered. "Please don't get hurt."

Bulma frowned and nodded slightly. She had to agree. Sitting around was preferable to fighting when her friends were matched up against Vegeta. There was no way of knowing for sure, but she would bet he was stronger than them all as a child. It was terrifying to imagine how much stronger he must be now. They wouldn't have a chance. The only one who could stop him in battle would be Goku, who still wasn't there. Maybe they were waiting for him? She couldn't figure it out.

Master Roshi came back into the living room and handed Bulma and Oolong frosty bottles of beer. He sat down next to Bulma again and opened his own beer. "What's going on there?"

She shrugged. "We don't know. Looks like they're waiting for something."

The aerial view switched to a new angle from the ground a safe distance away from the scene. What the reporters were saying wasn't very helpful, certainly not informative. They were as confused as their viewers about what was going on. They had expected to find a fight, but all they found was a group of strange-looking people sitting around in a desert. There was obvious tension between them, but no one knew what they were doing. It was actually boring to watch after a few minutes.

Bulma took a swig of her beer, then spit it out as she shrieked and toppled over backwards when someone appeared on screen out of nowhere, up close and personal. He had the cold eyes of a killer, a thin mustache, and a cruel grin. He was only there for a few short seconds before the screen went black. There was the sound of panicked screams and an explosion, then nothing. Bulma, Roshi, Oolong, and Puar stared at the screen in shock. There was no question about what just happened. The news team was dead. Bulma reached out a shaky hand and changed the channel to another major news station. It was all static. She gulped.

"He killed them," she squeaked.

Master Roshi nodded once, sadly. Their friends weren't going up against someone who played by the rules. They were fighting monsters, people without a conscience, people who kill without hesitation or remorse. The battle they were about to fight would be to the death. There would be no stalemate, no draw, no negotiations. It was kill or be killed. He sighed heavily and turned the television off. There was no sense watching the news when there was no information to gather from it.

"We have to do something," Bulma murmured. "Master Roshi, I knew Vegeta a long time ago. Maybe I can talk to him. Maybe I can stop them before anyone gets hurt."

"No, Bulma. I don't know if this is the same person you say you knew, but it's too dangerous. It's been a long time and he looks serious. I don't think there's anything you can say to change his mind."

Bulma twisted her blue dress in her hands and fought back the tears. She didn't want to believe what Roshi said was true, but how could she not? She saw what just happened. She took a deep breath and stood up. "I know it's dangerous, but I have to go. If there's the chance that I can stop anything bad from happening, I've got to do it."

"Bulma." Master Roshi grabbed her wrist tightly and shook his head. "Wait."

"No! Come with me if you want, but I'm going. I'm not going to sit here and wait for all my friends to die. I know Vegeta can kill them. He's too strong for them."

Master Roshi released her wrist and rose to his feet. "Alright. We'll go, but at the first sign of trouble you get out of there, you hear me?"

Bulma grunted as she put on her shoes and ran out the door, throwing her jet capsule in the sand. She climbed into the pilot's seat and fired up the engines, barely waiting for Master Roshi to get in the passenger side before she lifted off the ground. She realized she didn't know where they even were. She growled with frustration and landed again. She was about to give up hope when she saw something catch the rays of the sun a long distance away. Soon she could make out the small form of Fortuneteller Baba on her crystal ball. She grinned and hopped out of the jet, waving the old woman over.

"Baba! You're exactly who we need! Get in!" Bulma grabbed the fortuneteller and threw her in the jet. She got back in, closed the door, and took off. "Show us what's going on with the saiyans so we can figure out where they are."

"Are you crazy?" Baba screeched. "I'm not going there!"

Bulma scowled at her and snatched her crystal ball away. "Look here, you crazy old bat! You're going to show me how to get there right now or I swear this ball's going to the bottom of the ocean!"

Fortuneteller Baba huffed angrily. "Fine, I'll show you. Now give that back! But you can drop me off at the first rest stop."

…

Nappa landed next to the boulder Vegeta was still sitting on and wiped his brow. He had successfully annihilated all the news reporters and the planet's navy. He was ready for a real challenge now. "How long has it been, Vegeta?"

One corner of Vegeta's mouth turned down. "Twenty-seven minutes. Time's almost up."

"Good! I'm getting bored!"

Vegeta grunted. His only entertainment was coming from watching the nervousness of the earthlings become more apparent as the minutes ticked by. That lost its appeal quickly. He'd seen it all before. The comments boasting inflated confidence, the nervous twitches and shifting eyes, wiping sweaty palms on already sweat-soaked pants, kicking feet, audible gulping, and false laughter. They were on edge, constantly expecting a low blow or sneak attack from him. He sneered at them and stood up, stretching his arms over his head. He snorted when all the warriors immediately leaped to their feet and landed in defensive stances.

"Time's up," he drawled. "Your heroes aren't here. Guess they decided not to come."

The kid stepped forward. "My dad will be here! You just wait!"

Vegeta's eyebrow slowly raised. "Your father?"

"Yeah, Goku," the bald man snarled. "He's on his way. He just hasn't gotten here yet."

"I don't really care," Vegeta snapped. He may have a quick temper, but he considered himself to be a fairly patient man. He had to be. After all, what was his life but a waiting game? The years rolled by while he slowly gained power, waiting for the moment when he could finally openly rebel and gain his freedom and rightful place as ruler over the universe. He had patiently waited half an hour for two supposedly powerful warriors to come to them from somewhere on a tiny planet. If they weren't there by now, they weren't coming at all, he figured. No more waiting.

Vegeta sat down and crossed his legs. "Nappa, take care of these insects."

Nappa chuckled as he advanced a few steps forward. "You got it, Vegeta. You want me to keep the Namek alive, right?"

"Yes. Kill the rest."

"Alright, now which one of you should I kill first?" Nappa asked. No one answered as he appraised them all one by one. Their power levels were displayed on his scouter, showing him that none of them would be particularly difficult to defeat. Slightly disappointing, but not at all surprising. He shrugged. It didn't matter who he fought first, they would all die. His gaze came to rest on Yamcha, who shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. "How about you, pretty boy?"

"I'd like to see you try, you ugly ogre!" Yamcha yelled. He shifted his feet, readying himself for an attack.

"Yamcha," Krillin hissed, "You can't take this guy alone. He's too strong."

Yamcha smirked. "I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, no problem. Leave it to me." Yamcha started raising his ki as he prepared for battle. The numbers on the saiyans' scouters grew as he powered up, his energy blowing in a whirlwind around him, whipping his long hair around, infusing his muscles with new strength.

_"This bastard's too cocky for his own damn good. Hurry up and kill him so we don't have to listen to his annoying babble anymore."_

Nappa nodded once when he heard his prince's voice in his mind. He didn't bother adjusting his ki. Even powered up, Yamcha was no match for him. His power was peaking at 1500. Even Raditz would have been able to kill him without putting any effort into it. "Time to die!" he roared as he flew forward, fists raised to attack.

Yamcha barely dodged the saiyan before he was struck with a powerful punch to the face. He phased out of sight, hoping his speed could exceed Nappa's. He was counting on the saiyan's bulky frame slowing him down, but he hadn't taken into account the fact that he was accustomed to much higher gravity. Nappa phased behind him and kicked him higher into the air. He appeared again above him and smacked him down to the ground.

"That was too easy," Nappa laughed. He lowered himself to the ground and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Wolf Fang Fist!"

Nappa was caught off guard by a strong blow to his chest that floored him. He growled when he saw the scar-faced warrior standing in front of him, breathing hard with a trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth. He was already badly beaten, but the fight hadn't been taken out of him yet. Well, that was fine. Nappa did like a good fight. Weak, stubborn warriors were his favorite. They were more fun to knock around than strong warriors. They refused to give up even when they were clearly outmatched. They made themselves into living punching bags for him.

The massive saiyan jumped to his feet and grinned. "So you didn't get enough the first time, huh?"

"That was a lucky shot," Yamcha said between pants.

"Luck had nothing to do with it!" Nappa hurled himself at Yamcha and started punching and kicking so fast Yamcha was unable to keep up for long. Soon he was taking blow after blow, unable to block or dodge them all. He was too slow, too worn out already from their first encounter. He was unable to get so much as one solid hit in, being constantly forced on the defense. "Still think you can win?"

Nappa grabbed Yamcha's fists and squeezed, crushing the bones in his hands. He laughed when Yamcha roared in pain. He felt blood on his hands and heard the small bones snapping as he tightened his grip. He didn't let go until Yamcha collapsed on his knees and stopped trying to pull away. He kicked his stomach, making him cough up blood as he fell backwards and landed in the dirt.

"Yamcha!" Krillin ran over to his fallen friend, disregarding the danger he was putting himself in. He was only concerned for Yamcha, whose ki was rapidly dropping. He wouldn't make it through this fight alive if he didn't get help.

"I'm not finished with him yet, shorty," Nappa growled. He backhanded Krillin, sending him flying several yards. He landed roughly and rolled a few times before coming to a stop in front of Piccolo and the others.

"Are you ok?" Gohan asked as he knelt down by Krillin.

"Yeah," Krillin muttered, "I'm fine. Don't worry about me. We've got to help Yamcha."

Chiaotzu looked from Krillin to the fight between Yamcha and Nappa. "I can try to slow the big guy down with my telekinesis."

"Now then. How do I finish you off?" Nappa paced around Yamcha, who was struggling to sit up despite the pain shooting through his body. "I think I know. This is one of my favorites."

"Oh, no, we have to stop him!" Krillin shouted.

Nappa grabbed Yamcha's arm and threw him high into the sky. When he started falling, Nappa opened his mouth and a blinding beam of blue energy shot out and pierced through Yamcha's chest. By the time he hit the ground, he was dead.

Nappa rested his hands on his hips and turned to the other warriors, who watched in horror as their friend was killed before their eyes. They were too shocked to notice he had his sights set on them now. It was time to pick his next victim. 'How about the bald one? He seems pretty eager to fight.' He chuckled as he started gathering energy in his hand to make the first move on the short warrior.

Vegeta rested his cheek in one hand and rapped his fingers on his knee with the other. He was ready to be rid of the earthling warriors. They were worthless creatures, unfit to live. They were pathetically weak. If Nappa hadn't even broken a sweat, there was no chance he would have found any pleasure in toying with them. He wanted a challenge. He wasn't going to get one. That was obvious. What a pity. He looked up when he heard another aerial craft approaching from the west. He briefly considered blasting it, but decided not to. He didn't feel like wasting the energy. He turned his attention back to the battle. Nappa was getting ready to beat the bald midget to death. Should be vaguely interesting.

His scouter beeped when two high power levels were detected a distance away. They were much higher than the levels of the warriors engaging in battle with Nappa. He frowned. Where had they come from? The scouter didn't detect them before. That was impossible. The scouter was always supposed to find the strongest people first. How had it missed these? One was 10,150 and the other was 6800. Were they the warriors the others were waiting for? If so, they would be sadly disappointed when they, too, were killed, but still, he might be able to have a little fun with them.

His attention was again diverted when he heard the aircraft landing close by. He sighed exasperatedly. What was with these people? Did they all have a death wish? He stood up and raised his hand to start gathering energy to blast the people away. He would tolerate no interruptions from them. He was about to release his energy when a woman with aqua blue hair jumped out of the plane and started running straight toward him, seemingly without any fear despite the glowing ball of ki in the palm of his hand aimed at her. His brows lowered in confusion. Was she so stupid she didn't realize what he was about to do? While he was trying to figure her out, she drew close enough for him to see her more clearly. He stopped gathering energy. He didn't want to kill her, though only the gods knew why. He released his ki and waited for her to reach him.

_A/N: Oh snap, cliffhanger! So… no one won my little contest. For those of you not keeping track while reading, these were the characters: Bulma, Roshi, Oolong, Puar, Shenron, King Kai, Goku, Tien, Gregory, Bubbles, Vegeta, Nappa, Piccolo, Gohan, Krillin, Yamcha, Chiaotzu, and Fortuneteller Baba. Raditz was the character who was mentioned but not shown. (I didn't count the people of East City, the newscasters, or the navy as characters.) There's no saibamen in my story because I didn't like them. My versions of Vegeta and Nappa wouldn't play around letting little plant mutant things fight for them._

_Approximate power levels:  
>Nappa: 11,000<br>Vegeta: 29,250  
><em>_Goku: 10,150 (not powered up)  
>Tien: 6800 (not powered up)<br>Other characters are the same as canon._

_I finished chapter 54 and now I'm working on 55. Man, 54 was a load of fun to write. I hope you enjoy it when I post it._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl._

_Who'll get review 1000? It could be you! But even if it's not, review anyway!_


	42. Reunion

Reunion

The first thing Goku and Tien felt when they were transported back to Kami's Lookout was the two massive energy signals on the planet below. They were staggering, and one of them was unchanging, indicating it was not engaging in battle. They were hardly put at ease knowing he wasn't currently fighting. A power level that high should not be so steady. It wasn't raised for battle. It was his normal level, and though the saiyans may not have known the technique of masking their ki, they could still raise their power a great deal when they powered up for a fight. The other power, which was significantly lower but still impressive, was flickering like a flame as he fought someone with a power so much lower they had trouble feeling it at all.

"The saiyans!" Goku groaned when he felt them. "The fighting already started."

"Yeah, and they're stronger than I imagined," Tien said. He clenched his hands into fists. He didn't want to wait any longer to go fight them.

The saiyan almost smiled. He was looking forward to the challenge. Was it wrong to be excited when his friends were in danger? "Let's go, Tien. They need our help. You take the guy who's fighting now and I'll take the other one as soon as we get there."

"Right."

Goku and Tien shouted their goodbyes to Kami and Mr. Popo as they ran to the edge of the Lookout and jumped off. Goku called for the flying nimbus and landed on the gold cloud while Tien flew on his own toward the high power levels. Goku allowed him to go on while he stopped to get a sack of senzu beans from Korin. He knew that no matter which way the battle was going at the moment, someone would be in serious need of healing. Already he was worried about what was happening far away; he couldn't feel as many power levels as he should. There were two incredibly powerful people, probably the saiyans, and four weaker powers when there should have been five. Either someone was dead or very close to death. Either way, the odds of him and Tien reaching the battlefield on time to save that person were slim.

He easily caught up to Tien on the nimbus and led the way to the battle. One of the two highest powers was flickering slightly, as if in the midst of a fight. The second highest power of the earthling warriors was raised for battle, but it seemed to be slipping, sometimes taking dramatic falls. Whoever it was, he was being beaten down slowly, as if the saiyan fighting him was taking great pleasure in drawing the fight out. The only good thing about such a situation was the chance of them getting there to help before he met the same end as whoever was missing. Goku hastened their pace, anxious to reach them before anything worse happened. If someone really had been killed already he didn't think he could forgive himself. He should have come faster, he should have done _something_ to make it there on time to help. His friends were counting on him and he let them down. With guilt plaguing his mind he rushed to the battle to come to the rescue as he always had before. If they could just wait a few more minutes…

…

Nappa grunted as Krillin's quick right hook clobbered him in the jaw, then caught the short warrior's hand and twisted it around until he howled in pain. The small warrior tried to alleviate the pain shooting through his arm, but it was useless. Nappa's hold was unbreakable and unrelenting. He screamed until his throat felt raw as the bones in his wrist and elbow were slowly broken and he felt as though his shoulder was being ripped from its socket, which wasn't far from the truth. Finally, Krillin collapsed to the ground.

"Giving up already?" Nappa taunted. He released Krillin's wrist and kicked him hard in the ribs, sending him rolling across the ground, getting cut and bruised on the sharp rocks. Krillin groaned in pain; his suffering was excruciating, made worse when he realized he was being toyed with, as if the saiyan was trying to break every bone in his body before finishing him off. It made his defeat that much more painful. There was nothing he could do to defend himself anymore.

"Anytime guys," he said weakly between wheezing gasps for air. He stopped to cough up a glob of blood. "You can step in." He forced himself up on his elbows and tried to take a deeper breath, but several of his ribs were cracked, making the task of breathing too agonizing.

"I'm trying, Krillin!" Chiaotzu yelled. He had been trying his telekinetic abilities to slow Nappa down to give Krillin at least some speed advantage, but Nappa was too powerful to control.

Gohan ran forward a few steps before he felt his mentor's hand on his shoulder restraining him. He looked up at Piccolo with a scowl. "Let me go! We have to help Krillin!"

"We will, Gohan, but we can't just jump into this fight. We'll all get killed. We need to make a plan first."

"We don't have time!" Gohan yelled, furious that he was being held back when Krillin so desperately needed help.

Piccolo roughly shoved him to the ground. "We can't afford to ruin our opportunity!"

Nappa laughed when he heard their bickering. No matter how much time he took killing the midget, they would never be able to formulate a plan good enough to defeat him. They were simply too weak, end of story. He considered telling them so, too, but he decided he would let them try their best. In the mean time, he would kick the midget around a while longer. It wasn't even boring yet. He picked Krillin up and threw him high into the air, then jumped after him with fist outstretched above his head. By the time Krillin stopped his ascent and started falling, Nappa had almost reached him. A second later, Nappa's fist crashed into Krillin's back, eliciting another cry of pain. He continued his fall to the ground, everything from the waist down now completely numb.

Bulma cringed when she heard Krillin's screams, but she didn't let that deter her as she ran over to Vegeta. She saw the glowing orb of ki in his hand and feared she might be killed before she ever got a chance to try making peace, but it was a risk she had to take. Obviously her friends weren't doing too well in battle. If she could somehow bring it to a stop, the risk was worth it. Even if she was killed, she knew she could still be brought back with the dragon balls. She wasn't ready to welcome death, but she would go into danger for the sake of her friends. She unconsciously breathed a deep sigh of relief when she saw his gathered energy dissipate from his hand. He was glaring at her as she approached, the same glare he had given her countless times before, except this time it actually made her want to turn back in fear. He was different. He had changed. He was no longer a young homeless boy in need of love. He was a cruel monster, a killer, a man with seemingly no conscience. Raditz said he wouldn't remember her, and maybe he wouldn't, but she had to try to make him remember. By the time she reached him, he had his arms crossed over his chest and he was already exuding impatience.

She came to a stop a few feet in front of him and bent over with her hands on her knees as she panted for breath. It was only when she was so close to him she realized she should have thought of something to say to him. Now her mind was racing a million miles a second and she had no idea what to do. There were so many things she wanted to tell him, questions she wanted to ask him, insults she wanted to yell at him. But none of that mattered, at least not at the moment. What mattered now was getting him to call off his gigantic brute from killing Krillin. How she was going to accomplish that, she still didn't know. Ask nicely? Demand it? Bargain? She knew the old Vegeta, but she didn't know this Vegeta. She had no idea how he would react to her. Now that she was with him, she was afraid to speak to him. Bulma Brief, scared! She decided to at least wait until she had fully caught her breath, assuming he would be willing to wait that long.

Vegeta ran out of patience a while ago. "What the hell do you want?"

Bulma almost laughed when she heard his voice. Always so deep and gruff even as a child, he sounded exactly like she imagined he would. The question didn't surprise her either. She stood up and rolled her shoulders back. She was a little surprised that he hadn't grown to be much taller than her. Only an few inches, if that. It was hard to tell with his upright hair. She shook those thoughts from her head. She couldn't let herself get distracted. She had to forget that he was once her friend and focus on the here and now, when he is a murderer who wants to kill all her friends and destroy the planet. She cleared her throat. This wouldn't be easy.

"I want you to stop hurting my friends," she said, pointing to where Nappa was brutally beating Krillin. After the words fell out of her mouth she silently berated herself for saying something so stupid. As if that would be enough to convince Vegeta to order the other guy to stop. She winced when she saw his body slam into the side of a tall bluff and large rocks crashed down all around him. She hoped he was still alive in there.

Vegeta snorted. "You came to tell me to stop hurting your friends? Idiot woman. I don't take requests. I should kill you for your insolence."

Bulma gulped. She had no doubt that he would be willing to take her life. The look in his eyes was enough to make her blood run cold. Her mind was screaming at her to run away, leave the planet, go anywhere but here, but her feet wouldn't move. And her determination wouldn't be shaken. She was Bulma Brief, not some scared, frail woman standing on the sidelines doing nothing to help her friends! "You should, huh? That's a strange way to treat your friend."

His eyes narrowed as he wondered what her ploy was. "You are no friend of mine, wench."

"I am not a wench!" Bulma screamed. She stamped her foot and leaned closer to him. "Do you seriously not remember who I am, Vegeta?"

He took a step closer and leaned in until their noses were only inches apart. "I have no idea who the fuck you are, and frankly I don't care. I've never met you before in my life, and I wish I never had. Get out of here before I kill you." He was surprised with himself that he hadn't already, but the reason for his hesitation was irrelevant. His threat was issued and he wouldn't fail to follow through with it.

Bulma opened her mouth to say more but instead shrieked when Krillin went sailing over her head and landed on the ground several yards away. She spun around on her heel and pointed at Nappa. "Hey! Ugly! Leave him alone! Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

Nappa was momentarily speechless. Who was that woman, and how dare she talk to him that way? He growled, not even knowing how to respond. "Shut up!" He was about to continue his so-called fight when Piccolo sneaked up behind him and grabbed his tail while Gohan shot into the air and powered up a ki attack to throw at him.

But Bulma wasn't even paying attention anymore to see Nappa easily take down Piccolo. She had already turned back around to continue her confrontation with Vegeta. "How can you not remember me? You spent months with me and my parents!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" He was vaguely curious to hear what other wild tales she would come up with to try and convince him they were acquaintances. It was almost humorous how desperate the woman was. As if he would forget anything like that if it really happened. His memory was perfect. He never forgot anything, let alone several _months_.

"You were eleven years old," she elaborated, stretching her words as she tried jogging his memory. "You lived at Capsule Corporation and went to school with me for a month before you left to go back to whatever hell you came from."

"You obviously have me confused with someone else," Vegeta hissed. "As if I would ever lower myself to do anything so humiliating."

She jumped forward, nearly crashing into him when someone landed on the ground with a grunt of pain behind her. She didn't bother turning to see which of her friends it was. After coughing on the dust the body kicked up and fanning her face, she continued, "You saved me from being kidnapped twice!"

"I would never waste my time helping an ignorant, weakling female such as yourself."

Bulma felt like ripping her hair out in frustration. Could he really not remember or was he playing dumb? Did it really matter? Either way he wasn't stopping the fight. She didn't know what else to do. She had to stop them somehow. "If you've never met me before, tell me how I could possibly know your name, huh?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes. His interest in her was dwindling. She wasn't coming up with any persuasive appeals anymore. "Raditz probably mentioned my name. What I can't figure out is why you're not afraid of me if you know who I am."

"Why should I be afraid of you? You never hurt me before."

He snarled and reached out to grab her throat with his left hand. He had had enough of her mouthing off. He felt her slender neck in his hand and heard her sharp intake of breath. It made his skin crawl. He couldn't do this to her. Something was nagging at him, deep in his mind. There was some part of him that would sooner die than harm her. He had no idea why. She was an audacious, disrespectful, loudmouth bitch from a backwater mudball. She was nothing to him. He forced his hand to squeeze a little. He felt her tiny hands on his own, trying to pry it off, trying to save herself. Why should she have to save herself? Why couldn't he do it for her?

What the hell kind of thought was that? He should be considering how to kill her, not if he should be sparing her life! Still, his grip did not tighten, he did not choke her. She was still able to breathe, barely. Enough. Her face was turning a deep red and beads of sweat were forming on her forehead. He stared her straight in the eye as he held her. Her eyes were such a brilliant shade of blue he could have sworn he was looking into deep pools of clear water. They were innocent, entrancing. He was getting lost in them. He had to break his gaze from her.

"Vegeta," she gasped, "Please, stop this."

His hand seemed to act on its own accord as he released her. He watched as she backed away from him, her hands moving to her throat to ease the pain, and coughed. She didn't make eye contact with him, which for some reason made him more frustrated with her. She was so strong one minute and the next submissive? No. She was not submitting to him, she was trying to keep him from seeing the true signs of her weakness. He could smell it on her, the fear, the tears. He hurt her, and not just physically. Who was this crazy woman? Why did she think she could convince him to stop his quest for vengeance? She was infuriating! But he couldn't bring himself to kill her. Something was holding him back, something deep inside, at the very core of his being.

"Who are you?" he snarled.

She looked off to the side, still gently rubbing her throat. "My name is Bulma. Bulma Brief."

Like a faint echo from his past her name seemed to awaken something in him. But it was so small, so distant, that it quickly disappeared. He was beginning to think she was some sort of sorceress, casting a spell on him, making him dream up things that were not true, to bend him to her will. "What a stupid name."

Bulma shrugged, used to people commenting on her unusual name. "Vegeta, you have to remember me. Quit playing around."

"I do not play."

"You were eleven. I was nine. Don't you remember what happened? I swear it's true! You were here, on Earth. I'm sure you've been to a lot of planets –"

"I've destroyed every planet I have ever been to that wasn't a base," he snapped. "You idiot woman! You know my name but you clearly have no idea _who_ I am! I am Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, and it is my job to kill worthless peons such as yourself so your planet can be sold."

"I know what you do, and I don't care!" she yelled, waving her arms around. "I really don't care what you do because you're my friend even if you don't remember it!"

"Shut up, insolent woman!"

Bulma roared with frustration as she swung her arm around and slapped Vegeta as hard as she could, nearly losing her balance in the process. She squealed when she felt more pain than she delivered. Her hand felt tingly as she shook it out. She should have thought before acting. She had known he was harder than solid rock as a child. What made her think she would be able to hurt him now, as an adult? He was even stronger than before. So was she, but he was infinitely more so. She held her hand to her chest and bit her bottom lip. She would not cry, she would not cry. It didn't hurt that bad, really. She shook her hand again. 'Smart move, Bulma. Now he's definitely going to kill you.'

Vegeta's countenance darkened. His head was turned from her hit, mostly because he was too stunned to react. He turned to face her, obsidian eyes burning with a fire of raw fury. There was a red hand print across his cheek that may have been funny had he not been so angry. "You will regret that, woman." His voice was low, threatening. She wiped her sweaty palms on her dress and took a step back. She might have been imagining it, but she thought she could feel the heat from his body rising with his anger.

"I – I'm sorry, Veggie," she stammered as all her courage fled. She backed away from him as he advanced on her, his lips curled in a feral, predatory snarl that revealed his sharp canines. She glanced down and saw the tip of his tail flicking. Yeah, he was definitely mad. She swallowed hard.

"You'll be more than sorry when I'm through with you." His body was burning with suppressed ki. He was trying to keep it in check, but a blazing aura was starting to ignite around him. "And don't you _dare_ call me by that name ever again."

She held her hands up in front of her as she kept backing up, her heart hammering in her chest. Her mouth was dry and she felt like she couldn't breathe, making her chest heave with short, shallow breaths. "Please – please don't hurt me. I'm sorry!"

Vegeta was almost blinded with rage. He wanted to kill her, he wanted to punish her for her foolish, disrespectful audacity. But he couldn't. He couldn't make himself gather the small amount of ki it would take to extinguish her life, he couldn't bring himself to raise his hand to strangle her, to snap her neck, crush her skull, tear out her heart, anything.

"Bulma! What are you doing? Get out of here, now!"

Bulma looked up when she heard the familiar voice yelling at her from somewhere above her. She saw a gold streak shoot across the sky and breathed a sigh of relief. Goku was back, he finally came. He would protect her. Right on time, as usual. She almost forgot the threat standing right in front of her until she faced him again and saw his building rage. At least now his attention was on Goku instead of her. His tail was uncoiled from his waist and lashing behind him. Yep. Definitely furious. She turned and ran away from him as fast as she could. Forget trying to make peace. Vegeta was a crazed psychopath who couldn't remember almost a year of his life. She had never been so utterly terrified before in her life. Not in any of her near-death experiences had she been so sure she wouldn't make it through alive.

"Bulma! Are you ok? What the hell are you doing here?"

She whirled around when she heard Tien shouting at her now. Good, he was back and probably stronger too. He came to save her. She really wanted to get away from here. She must have been crazy to think she could help anyone by interfering. "Tien! You're here! Thank Kami."

"Why did you come here?" he asked as he landed a few feet from her, eyes on the fight between Nappa and the others. He was eager to jump into the fray and help them, but he wanted to know what he was hurling himself into, so he stayed back to carefully analyze his opponent – but quickly.

Bulma laughed nervously and rubbed the back of her neck. "Well, I thought maybe I could help. But I guess that didn't work out, so I'll be going now." She yelped when she saw Vegeta glaring at her. She wished he would stop looking at her like that. Like he was trying to burn holes through her soul with his eyes.

"Master Roshi is in the jet. Get out of here, now!" Tien barked right before darting off to catch Nappa off guard with a heavy blow to the back of his head.

"Ok, ok, I'm going!" Bulma shouted. She turned and stomped back toward the jet, but she was cut off when Vegeta phased in front of her, blocking her path.

"Where do you think you're going?" he growled. He lifted her chin to force her to look him in the eye. She didn't like what she saw. There was anger, hatred, death, emptiness. "I'm not finished with you, bitch."

"Leave her alone!"

Vegeta suddenly disappeared and a streak of orange flew past her. Bulma stumbled backward a few steps and fell to the ground. She had no idea what just happened, but she knew she didn't like it. She tried to stand, but she was knocked over by a shockwave as two fists collided a few yards away from her. She shrieked as she fell to the ground, scraping her knees on the rocky ground. She felt like crying. Unfortunately, that wouldn't do her any good at the moment.

"What is going on?" she screamed. "I want to get out of here!"

She curled into the fetal position when a nearby bluff crumbled to the ground as one of her friends collided with it and more shockwaves shook the Earth to its foundations from above. 'Kami, Bulma, what have you gotten yourself into? You were an idiot to come here! You should have listened to Roshi, but no, you had to try to be the hero. You're not a friggin' hero! You need to get the hell out here, now!' She nodded to herself and got up on her hands and knees and started crawling toward the jet, hoping it was still intact and Roshi had the engines going and ready for takeoff.

Vegeta saw her trying to get away, but he was unable to distract his opponent long enough to stop her. His opponent had some sort of technique that greatly multiplied his power in short bursts. Well, it wasn't the first time he'd ever faced someone with that ability. It was tricky to counter, but not impossible. He growled and spun around, driving his knee into the other fighter's gut. In the split second the other fighter spent recovering, he fired a small ki blast that hit the ground feet in front of the blue-haired woman. He snapped his attention back to his fight and caught a fist directed toward his chest and a leg aiming for his ribs. He countered with a kick that hit his opponent's groin and an elbow on his head when he hunched over in pain.

_"Nappa! What the hell is going on?"_

_ "I'm not sure, Vegeta. Two strong warriors came out of nowhere and started fighting."_

_ "Yes, I know that, you idiot! Can you handle three-eyes over there on your own?"_

_ "Yeah, it's no problem as long as the others don't—"_ Nappa's thought was cut short when he was surprised by the little doll-looking guy powering up a powerful beam of ki. He jumped over it and kicked the diminutive man in the head, sending him careening through the air and straight into the Namekian.

Vegeta ducked as the stray ki beam shot over his head from the other fight. It caught his opponent's shoulder. The brief pause in fighting allowed him to better see who he was fighting. He was tall, he had black eyes, wild black hair… that hair. His eyes narrowed. He was fighting a saiyan, a third-class. It had to be Raditz's brother. So these earthlings could bring people back from the dead after all. That was good information to have. Not that he had time to think about that right now. For a third-class, he was strong, fast, and cunning.

"So, Kakarrot, what was it like being dead?" he taunted as he punched the other saiyan with a hard uppercut.

Goku allowed his momentum to carry him into a back-flip and kicked Vegeta's chin as he spun around. "My name is Goku, not Kakarrot!"

Vegeta fired two ki balls at Goku as he whirled around through the air. "I don't care what you call yourself! You're still third-class trash!"

"Goku, watch out!" Krillin screamed over the din of battle.

Goku dodged to the left just on time to avoid being decapitated by a destructo disk. He wiped the sweat from his brow and looked down to where his friend, recently healed with a senzu bean, was guiding his disk around to chase the larger saiyan, who was pummeling Tien. Vegeta watched the destructo disk as it curved through the air like a boomerang, easily slicing through another bluff, and headed for his only remaining comrade.

_"Nappa, watch yourself. The midget's got a ki disk. Don't underestimate it."_

_ "I see it."_

Vegeta phased out of sight when Goku tried to surprise him with a swift kick to the back. The prince caught him in a chokehold and lowered him to the ground near where Bulma was still kneeling and trembling in fear. He wanted her to see that her savior was weak. He wanted to make her watch him die. "So, woman, you thought this worthless trash could save you? Let's see if you still think that as you watch him die."

"Leave my daddy alone!" Gohan yelled as he rushed over to Vegeta and Goku. He jumped high in the air and clenched his fists together to bring down on Vegeta's head, but the saiyan disappeared again. A second later the half-breed was knocked to the ground. He never saw what hit him.

"Stupid brat," Vegeta spat.

Goku saw his son hurt and roared with frustration. He was too late to save Yamcha, almost too late to save Bulma and Krillin, and now his son was struck down right before his eyes. He flared his ki and broke free from Vegeta's hold and roundhouse kicked him, sending him flying straight through a wide bluff. He powered up and darted after him, ready to put an end to the fight.

Vegeta regained control of himself and stopped mid-flight, only to receive a punch to the gut that left him winded. He furiously kicked Goku's ribs and started a barrage of kicks and punches that Goku was hardly able to block, let alone counter. Minutes dragged on like hours as they fought in close hand-to-hand combat, neither pulling punches or giving quarters. Vegeta was out for blood and Goku was determined to protect his friends from the saiyan prince. Battered and bruised they kept fighting until Goku phased out of sight and tried to catch Vegeta with a paralyzing kick to his lower back.

But Vegeta was too fast for him. He saw Goku coming and disappeared. He reappeared behind Bulma and yanked her to her feet. He powered up a ball of ki in his left hand and held it over her chest while he held her arms behind her back with his right hand. "You seem to care an awful lot about this woman!" he shouted. His eyes shifted across the battlefield, searching for his adversary. "What would you do if I killed her?"

"Leave me out of this!" Bulma whimpered as she struggled to get away, but his hold on her was too strong.

Goku appeared in front of them and glared at Vegeta, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Let her go." He knew he couldn't attack without Bulma being hurt, maybe even killed. He would never be able to move fast enough to get her out of this bind without risking her life.

"What's your interest in this woman anyway? Is she your mate?" Vegeta smirked and pulled her flush against his chest. He felt her shaking. Such a weak, cowardly little woman. He sniffed her neck, enjoying the scent of her fear. Goku growled and stepped forward, not liking his close proximity to his friend.

Bulma's heart skipped a beat. This was it, she was going to die. Vegeta was going to kill her. She squeezed her eyes shut and hastily told him, "We're not mates. We're just friends. We've been friends for years."

"Touching." Vegeta inhaled her scent more deeply, then froze, his breath catching. His eyes widened when he was struck by its familiarity. He let the energy go from his left hand and pulled her hair to the side and brushed his nose against her skin, sniffing from the base of her neck up to her jaw. He vaguely recognized her scent. But he couldn't place it. It was like his memory of it was constantly evading him, no matter how hard he searched for it. He quickly grew frustrated. He knew he knew the scent, but he couldn't figure out why or how. Was the woman speaking some truth? Had he met her before? Where? When?

She tried not to laugh when she felt him sniffing her. It tickled, and despite the obvious danger, she thought it was funny. When he let go of her arms she didn't move away from him, her fear lessening with each passing second he hesitated in killing her. Had he changed his mind? Maybe something clicked. Maybe he was remembering. She knew olfactory memories were some of the strongest, and she knew saiyan noses were much stronger than humans'.

Vegeta lifted her hand and sniffed her wrist. Yes, he definitely knew her scent from somewhere. It was sort of sweet, like some kind of fruit. He imagined it to be small and red. His eyebrow quirked as he dropped her arm. He took a few steps back away from her. His fight with Goku was completely forgotten. He was trying to remember, trying to find the memory, but he couldn't retrieve it. It was there, just out of reach, so close. He growled and clutched his head in his hands, clawing at his temples. It had to be there! He never forgot anything!

Goku watched the other saiyan, bewildered. He had been angry with him; after all, he was threatening to hurt her. Then he suddenly changed from confident and murderous to confused and anxious. He took another slow step forward, wondering if Vegeta was feigning his reaction to make him let his guard down.

"Vegeta?" Bulma took a tentative step toward him and reached her hand out to him. He slapped it away. She hissed in pain but took another step forward. "Vegeta? Are you alright? What's wrong?"

Shaking his head, his fingers tangled in his hair, he kept backing away until he stumbled over a large stone. He didn't bother catching himself before he landed in the dirt on his backside. Something was wrong with his mind. There was something amiss and he had no idea what. That scent. He knew it. He had no idea how, but he knew it. No two beings in the universe had the same scent. He had to have met her before. He knew her. But how? How? He couldn't remember. It was driving him insane.

Bulma moved closer and was going to kneel down next to him, but Goku grabbed her arm and held her back. He shook his head slowly as he pulled her away. This was the opportunity she needed to get away, while the other saiyan was distracted for whatever reason. "Bulma, you've got to get out of here. It's not safe." He pushed her toward the jet.

"I'm not going, Goku," she said, stubbornly digging her heels into the dirt. "Something's wrong with Vegeta. I have to help him."

Goku groaned, exasperated. Getting his friend to leave when she didn't want to was no easy task without accidentally hurting her. He didn't have time to watch her while he was fighting, so in frustration he shouted, "This isn't time for games! Get out of here right now!"

She slapped his hands away when he tried to push her again. "This isn't a game! Goku, you don't understand, I _have_ to help him. I have no idea what's going on in his mind right now, but I can assure you it's terrible. The things he's lived through… Goku, _I _don't even know what all he's suffered through since I knew him. He was a wreck then and he's a wreck now and I'm not abandoning him."

Goku felt some of his anger melting away as she pled with him. He cast a wary glance over at Vegeta and sighed. 'A wreck' was an understatement. He looked like an invalid from the government mental hospital as he sat on the ground, digging his fingers into his scalp and muttering to himself in his alien language. Somehow it didn't seem right to fight with someone who wasn't at his best. Keeping his guard up, he allowed Bulma to go over to the small saiyan.

Bulma glowered at him as she pushed past and knelt down next to Vegeta and stroked his flame of hair. "It's ok, Vegeta. You can trust me, I promise."

Vegeta wasn't listening to her. He was lost in his own mind, trying desperately to access what seemingly wasn't there. He couldn't figure it out. She said he was eleven when he met her. Eleven years old. He tried to think, but his thoughts were racing and he couldn't sort through them all fast enough. Eleven years old. Where was he when he was eleven? He couldn't remember. It was as if there was a void in his memory. There was nothing. He tried to remember when he was ten years old. He was sent on a purge mission. Planet 1084XR. That's right. He remembered that. He remembered leaving for the purge and entering stasis. And then there was nothing. And then he woke up and he was back on Frieza's ship in the medical bay, and… and he was informed that he crash landed and was in a coma for almost a year.

He looked up at the battle that was still going on with Nappa fighting off all the earthling warriors. He was kept busy trying to hold them all off. They were giving him a difficult time when they all attacked at once. He wasn't losing, but he wasn't making any progress either. Vegeta cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Nappa, stop fighting, now!"

Immediately the large saiyan stopped fighting and turned around to where Vegeta was still sitting on the ground. "Why?"

The others all paused mid-attack, dumbfounded by the sudden break in action. Krillin looked back and forth between Nappa and Vegeta, then looked over to Gohan and Piccolo. They answered his questioning gaze with a shrug. Glancing over at Tien and Chiaotzu, he received a mirroring confused expression. They had no idea what led the smaller saiyan to command their opponent to stop fighting, but they weren't going to complain. It meant they might be able to rest a few minutes and come up with a plan to defeat him, if need be. Krillin ran over to them and they started talking amongst themselves while Nappa walked over to his prince to try reasoning with him.

"Why'd we stop, Vegeta?" he asked, glaring at Goku as he brushed past him. "I was just starting to have fun with them."

"Oh, shut up!" Vegeta snarled. "Nappa, what really happened when I was eleven?"

"What do you mean?"

Vegeta stood up and grabbed the front of Nappa's armor and pulled him down to eye level. "Stop trying to cover something! There's no possible way I was in a coma for a fucking year! What happened? Why can't I remember?"

"Um, well, you see, Vegeta, it's kind of a long story, and I don't think now is the time to talk about it."

"Oh, I think now is the _perfect_ time to tell me why I know her scent!" Vegeta growled as he pointed to Bulma.

Nappa looked down at the woman, who was still kneeling on the ground. He had never seen her before in his life. He would've remembered someone with hair that color. Where had Vegeta ever gone that he hadn't? They were always sent on the same missions. He wracked his brain for information that might be helpful to Vegeta. When he was eleven…he crash-landed on a planet in galaxy XR. His eyes widened. They were _in_ galaxy XR.

Well, shit.

_A/N: Well, fanfic is definitely being a jerk today, but I have managed to bring you the next exciting chapter of Homeless Boy anyway. I'm sure you're all glad, seeing as I left you with a particularly nasty cliffhanger in the last chapter. For that I would apologize, but I'm not really sorry. Couple things I wanted to say in response to reviews...Nappa, Vegeta, and Raditz all know English because they basically uploaded it into their brains from their scouters while they were traveling. That's my theory on how they could know the native languages of the planets they go to. Francis: I'm actually in the central time zone. Oh, and happy late birthday to "July" - hope this chapter suffices as a belated present. ;)_

_I hope this chapter was everything you were hoping for. My beta, lilpumpkingirl, and I worked hard to bring you this chapter and make it as satisfying as possible. I'm sorry if you were hoping for more Vegeta/Goku fighting, but I assure you, there will be more later on. Right now just isn't the time for it._

_Side note: Go read SecretInk's new story, _Between the Lines_. I've been beta-reading it and it's pretty good. It's worth checking out._

_Review!_


	43. Secrets Revealed

Secrets Revealed

Goku looked from the tall, bald saiyan, to the short, spiky-haired saiyan, to his oldest friend, Bulma. He was confused and tense. He was fighting one moment and the next the little guy was acting like a wounded animal with Bulma trying desperately to help him right after he threatened to kill her. Nothing was making sense. The fighting came to a standstill and there was no explanation why except that, perhaps, Bulma finally got through to the short one somehow. What she did, he didn't know, but he doubted it was enough to make the reprieve in fighting very long. He looked behind him and saw Piccolo, Krillin, Tien, Chiaotzu, and Gohan cautiously making their way over to where he was standing a few feet away from the strange reunion, if that was what it was.

"Hey, Goku, what's going on?" Krillin asked as he came up to stand alongside his best friend.

Goku chuckled and rubbed his head. "I'm not sure, really."

Piccolo rolled his eyes. "That's a surprise. She knows that guy from somewhere?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess so." Goku shrugged. He still didn't like Bulma being so close to the enemy even if they weren't presently threatening anyone. They were talking in some weird language that seemed oddly familiar, but he still couldn't understand a word of it.

Krillin, hiding behind Goku, beckoned to Bulma to come over and talk to them. She looked up at the saiyans, but they weren't paying her any mind, so she got up and quietly padded over to her friends. "What were you thinking coming here?" Krillin hissed.

Bulma stomped her foot. "Oh, please! Not you too! I'm tired of you guys thinking I can't take care of myself. Look, I'm fine, ok? We just had a little misunderstanding earlier." Bulma rubbed her throat again, remembering Vegeta's strong hand squeezing it.

"What's going on, anyway?" Goku asked.

"Well, they're talking. I guess Vegeta finally recognized me or something and now he's talking to that bear over there about it. I can't understand a word of their language. It sounds more like growls to me."

Tien snorted. "That's probably what it is. They're beasts."

Bulma frowned at him. "Don't talk about Vegeta like that! I know he's not the nicest guy, but I can promise you he's not like this by choice."

"He seemed to be enjoying it to me," Goku piped in.

Krillin nodded sagely. "Yeah, and that big guy definitely got a kick out of beating me senseless."

Bulma crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her friends in turn. "Whatever. Where the heck is Yamcha?"

Krillin's mouth dropped open. "B-Bulma? Don't you know?" He glanced over his shoulder, and when he turned back, his brows were furrowed and his mouth turned down. "The big guy killed him."

"What?" she shrieked. "No! You're wrong, he has to be alive!"

Gohan sniffled. "It's true, Bulma." The young half-breed hadn't had much time to get to know Yamcha very well, but he knew he was a good guy and he was a friend of his father, and that was enough for him to feel attached to him. Through the shock and fear of battling the saiyans, he had hardly gotten a chance to think about the fact that he witnessed someone dying earlier, but now that there was a break in fighting and the topic came up, he felt terrible grief.

Tien, Goku, and Krillin were feeling the same thing. They were close friends with Yamcha, and knowing they had been unable to save him was eating at them. Their guilt grew into anger. There was a noticeable rise in temperature around them as their ki flared. They didn't want to stand around waiting to see what would happen next. They wanted to fight the monsters who came and killed their friend with no just cause. Never mind the fact that the saiyans were there for their own revenge for the death of their comrade, Raditz.

Bulma didn't want to believe what they told her at first. Yamcha was somewhere else, it was that simple. Where he went, she didn't know, but he had to be alive. She couldn't bear the thought of him being dead. She was in love with him and she still hadn't married him. They decided to wait until _after_ the saiyan threat. Well, Yamcha had to make it through the battle with the saiyans so he could marry her. It was that simple. He had too much to live for to be dead. She shook her head, wanting to stay in denial, but when she saw the grief on all her friends' expressions and saw their tightly clenched fists, she knew it was true. She felt tears forming, and though she tried to hold them back and stay strong, they started falling.

"Yamcha," she whispered. "No, Yamcha. Why'd it have to be you?"

Goku took a deep breath and slowly released it. He had to keep a clear head for the fight. "Don't worry about it, Bulma. We'll wish him back with the dragon balls. I promise."

There wasn't much comfort in his promise. Of course there was the hope that she would be with Yamcha again, but that meant waiting a whole year to see him again. During that time he would be dead. Dead! It wasn't quite the same as knowing he was away on a long trip or training somewhere in the wilderness for a year. No, he was in another dimension, and there was the chance that he couldn't come back if something was screwed up with finding the dragon balls or making the wish. Still, the hope was enough to take the edge off her pain for now. Bulma nodded and brushed her tears away. Goku was right. They would wish him back and everything would be as it should be.

Bulma went back over to the saiyans and planted her hands on her hips. They were still talking in their weird language, and from what she could tell Nappa was explaining something while Vegeta was listening and growing increasingly furious. He obviously didn't like whatever Nappa was telling him. Bulma hated to interrupt – really, she did – but she had a bone to pick with the saiyans: They killed her fiancé.

"How could you?" she spat venomously. "You killed Yamcha, you brutes!"

Vegeta quirked an eyebrow at her. "What the hell are you moaning about, woman?"

Bulma balled her right hand into a fist. "I'll tell you what I'm moaning about! The man this big idiot killed was my fiancé! I was going to marry him!"

"And I should care?" he growled.

Bulma screamed her rage and feinted a right hook. When Vegeta blocked it she brought up her left leg and kicked his unguarded groin. Had it not been for his armor, he would have been in a good deal of pain, but as it was, he only felt a minor bit of discomfort.

"Do you _want_ me to kill you?" he roared.

Flames of red ki burst up around Goku as he shot forward and knocked Vegeta away from Bulma. He didn't have time to react before the saiyan prince was back on his feet charging at him with fists raised ready to strike. He was thrown on the defensive, blocking and dodging kicks and punches so fast he could have sworn Vegeta had more than four limbs.

"Would you two stop it?" Bulma shrieked. "I can't take this anymore!"

In the fraction of a second that Goku was distracted by Bulma, Vegeta grabbed his arm, wrenched his shoulder from his socket, and hurled him into the ground. He cupped his hands at his side and started gathering energy for a Gallic Gun. The violet energy grew in his hands until its light was brighter than the sun. He was done fooling around with the third-class. It was time to end the fight.

"No! Vegeta, stop!" Bulma ran over to Goku and stood over him. She held her arms out at her sides and glared up at Vegeta. "You're going to have to kill me to get to him."

Vegeta scoffed. "Is that supposed to stop me?" He held his hands in front of him, ready to fire his beam of ki. He didn't give a damn if the crazy woman wanted to sacrifice herself to save the pitiful excuse of a warrior. That was her problem, not his. Besides, he would probably end up killing her eventually anyway. She was annoying beyond belief.

"I know you won't hurt me," she said confidently.

Goku struggled to sit up. "Bulma, get out of here! How many times do I have to tell you?"

She shook her head, but didn't take her eyes off Vegeta. "Sorry, Goku, but I don't take orders. I'm not leaving. You two are going to stop fighting this instant."

Bulma had to squint to see Vegeta behind the ki held in his hands pointed directly at her. She refused to look at the light. It would do nothing to firm her resolve. She looked beyond it, looked into Vegeta's onyx eyes that, unfortunately, reflected the light in his hands. He looked like a madman. Still, he hadn't fired. That gave her a boost in confidence. He could have released his attack long ago, but he was just waiting, watching her. Something had to be holding him back.

Indeed there was. Vegeta honestly wanted to punish her for her audacity, her insolence, her everything. She was driving him crazy and he had only met her a few minutes ago. Well, he might have met her a long time ago, but he couldn't remember it so that was irrelevant. Still, it must be their first meeting that was restraining him. He had to admit he was impressed with her courage. There she stood, facing certain death without so much as a tremble of fear. She was either a complete idiot or she really believed she held some sway over him. Maybe she did. He was willing himself to fire his Gallic Gun, but it wouldn't leave his hands. He felt sweat dripping down his temples as he fought with himself on the inside. He wanted to kill her, but he _couldn't_. His body wouldn't cooperate. It wouldn't attack her. But why? What was it about her that made him so reluctant to hurt her?

_"Vegeta, I don't think you should hurt her."_

Vegeta looked over at his bodyguard with teeth bared. He was already frustrated with himself, why did he have to deal with Nappa's stupidity now? He growled and clenched his hands into fists, dropping the gathered ki. _"Why the hell not?"_

The earthlings followed Vegeta's gaze and saw Nappa had an expression of deep concentration. That was new. He sighed and, rubbing his head with one hand, closed his eyes and said nothing, but Vegeta's eyes didn't move from him. They looked back and forth between the two saiyans, wondering what was going on. They saw one of Vegeta's eyebrows slowly raise and his mouth opened until he was gaping like a dead fish. Something must have been going on between them, but no one knew what.

Nappa pushed memories across their mental link. Memories of Vegeta's outburst when Frieza threatened to have 1076XR purged. Memories of Vegeta trying to fight Frieza, then Zarbon. He showed Vegeta his radical increase in ki, his fearless attack on the tyrant, the way he refused to be kept down even when he was badly beaten. He even revealed the brief mental conversation he had with Raditz about what was going on. Vegeta was attached to someone on the planet where he had been stranded. He was willing to die to save whoever was there.

It was hard for Vegeta to believe. How could he have ever allowed himself to become attached to anyone, especially someone weak like an earthling, possibly the blue-haired woman? It made no sense to him. He hated weaklings. He never concerned himself with anyone but himself. He lived to survive, not to save others. But what Nappa was showing him couldn't have been made up. It was too real. It stirred something deep in his mind. He couldn't quite place it, but it was familiar. It really happened. He was attached to an earthling. And, considering how he knew the woman's scent and the way she acted so friendly toward him, it was probably her. Nappa was right. He couldn't kill her. He would be torn apart inside if he did. Apparently something in him still remembered her even if he had no conscious memories of her. And anyway, if what Nappa said earlier was true, Frieza intended for him to kill everyone on this planet eventually in the hopes that it would somehow break him. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't kill the woman. She was important to him. Whether he liked it or not, there were attachments that couldn't be easily broken.

_"Damnit, what am I supposed to do then?"_

Nappa shrugged. _"You'll have to break the bond somehow."_

_ "How?"_

_ "I don't know. We'll figure something out."_

Vegeta rolled his eyes and lowered himself to the ground. Maybe he was attached to the woman, but he highly doubted he was attached to Kakarrot. He had no qualms about hurting him when they were fighting. Actually, every punch and kick he landed felt rather satisfying. He didn't want to stop beating him up. Rather, he wanted to continue their fight to the death and get proper revenge for Raditz. He stalked over to where Bulma was still standing with her arms out as if to protect the saiyan behind her.

"Get out of my way," he hissed.

She looked him directly in the eye and frowned. "No way. There's no need to fight."

Vegeta put his hands on Bulma's shoulders. "Excuse me, but I have a debt to collect," he said with mock politeness. He roughly pushed her aside and grabbed the collar of Goku's gi and pulled him up to his feet. "Now then, where were we?"

Bulma regained her balance and jumped on Vegeta's back, wrapped her arms around his neck, and with all her strength tried to choke him. Obviously asking nicely wasn't going to work. Vegeta was surprised by her strength, but it wasn't enough to hurt him. He pulled her arms off his neck and dropped her on the ground. "Woman, I would suggest staying out of this."

"You don't have to hurt him! You want revenge for Raditz, right?" Bulma stood up and dusted herself off when she saw she had Vegeta's attention. "Well, there's no need for it. He's not dead."

"What do you mean he's not dead? Then where the hell is he?"

Bulma inched around Vegeta, again putting herself between him and Goku before answering. "Well, you see he's back at Capsule Corporation. Piccolo really did a number on him during their battle and I've been taking care of him. Sort of."

"Sort of?" Vegeta stepped closer to her until his face was inches from hers. She would have backed away, but then she would have tripped over Goku's prone body.

She laughed nervously. "Yeah, sort of. I mean, he's well enough, but, um, he's in a sort of coma. It's not like I could trust him. He kind of wanted to, you know, kill everyone."

"Funny how I don't blame him."

"Yeah, well, you're here now so I guess I can wake him up. That is, if you'll tell him not to hurt anyone. I'm not going to let a psychopath loose on the planet."

Vegeta again considered killing the woman. How dare she think she has the power to make demands like this? If he wanted, he could blow up the whole planet with her on it! That'll show her. Yet, the thought of hurting her made his stomach turn. No, he couldn't do it. Neither could he let Nappa or Raditz bring any harm to her. He grit his teeth and nodded.

"Good! Then I guess I can take you to the compound and we'll get him back up to speed and you can all be on your merry way, which doesn't include killing anyone. Great!" Bulma started walking toward her jet, but she found herself swept up in Vegeta's arms and they were airborne. She shrieked and threw her arms around his shoulders for safety.

Behind him, she saw Nappa coming after them, followed by Tien, Chiaotzu, Piccolo, and Krillin. Gohan must have stayed behind with Goku. Well, Master Roshi could fly them to Capsule Corporation in the jet. It wasn't as if she could go back to help. She squeezed her eyes shut and held on to Vegeta tighter. He was flying much faster than she had ever gone with Yamcha or any of her other friends. It was terrifying.

"Do you know where to go?" she yelled over the wind.

"Hn." Vegeta couldn't really explain it, but he felt like he knew the way to the Capsule Corporation compound. He flew northwest. Even though he didn't exactly recognize the territory, he still knew where he was going as if there was some autopilot in his brain directing him. He must have traveled the planet while he was on it last time. He was running on memories he wasn't conscious of, memories that didn't require awareness. They had been flying for a few minutes when he felt Bulma relaxing in his arms. She still held on to him, but it was obvious she felt safer. That disgusted him. She should be afraid of him. Everyone feared Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans. But not this stupid woman. What happened between them all those years ago? Why did she trust him? Why did she care about him? For that matter, why did he care about her? He wished he could remember.

It was nearly an hour later that they reached a large city. Vegeta felt strangely comfortable there, at least until he flew over an area with lots of trees and a lake in the middle. When he saw it, he felt an overwhelming need to protect the woman in his arms. He shook his head until the feeling passed. There wasn't anything threatening her, and even if there was, why should he be bothered with her welfare? Because he was attached. He figured he must have been terribly foolish to allow himself to ever form any kind of attachment with anyone on the mudball. Especially this female. She was nothing but a nuisance. He wanted to hate her. Only a minute later he saw a large, domed building down below. Without being told he knew that was his destination. He dropped out of the sky on the front lawn and set Bulma on her feet. The others all landed around him. The earthling warriors obviously didn't trust him, and Nappa would stick by his side through anything.

Bulma quickly removed her arms from Vegeta and put some space between them, a light blush tingeing her cheeks pink. "Well, I guess you remembered the way, huh?" She cleared her throat and spun around on her heel to march into the compound with the band of warriors close behind.

The first thing Vegeta noticed when he went inside was the smell. He didn't think he had ever smelled anything like it before, but it was distantly familiar and enticing. It was some sort of food, but what kind he wasn't sure. He would have to investigate later. Right now his first concern was seeing Raditz and verifying that he was alive as the woman claimed. When a door on the left opened he nearly bowled Nappa over when he shot backward in surprise.

Through the door came a very slender woman with a pile of blonde curls on her head. Her eyes were closed, but she had a beaming smile. "Bulma, honey, is that you? I thought you went to visit your friends."

"Yeah, Mom, I did." Bulma glanced over at Vegeta and back to her mother. Should she tell her now? She decided to wait until everyone was together so she would only have to explain it once. "Mom, we have some company. Would you mind bringing us some refreshments? We're going to the infirmary to visit Raditz."

If it was possible, Mrs. Brief's smile grew. "Oh, of course, honey! I just finished baking some cupcakes."

"Thanks, Mom." Bulma breathed a small sigh of relief when her mother disappeared into the kitchen. She continued down the hall and led the way through the compound to the infirmary. She was still a little uncertain about rousing Raditz from his coma, but Vegeta was definitely stronger than him and apparently the prince, so she had nothing to be afraid of if Vegeta agreed to keep him from harming anyone. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door to his room and went inside.

Vegeta followed her in and nearly knocked her over when he saw Raditz lying on the bed. He went to his side and shook his shoulders to wake him up. "What the hell did you do to him?"

"Vegeta, I told you, he's in a coma. I can bring him out of it as long as you keep your word to make sure he doesn't hurt anyone." Bulma crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the table next to Raditz's bed.

Nappa went over to the other side of the bed. "Prince Vegeta doesn't have to promise you anything."

"He does if you want your friend to wake up," she snapped. She received a glare from the giant saiyan that made her want to eat her words. Even so, she didn't back down.

"Enough!" Vegeta barked. "Wake him up now before I blow this planet to oblivion!"

"Hey, you better take that back," Tien said, stepping forward to confront the saiyan prince.

Vegeta sneered at him. "Or what?"

Bulma pushed her way between them and shoved both of them a step back. "Stop it, you two!"

"Why are you protecting him?" Tien demanded.

"Oh, as if I need _her_ to protect me," Vegeta snarled.

"Shut up!" Bulma kicked Tien's shin and elbowed Vegeta in the chest. "I've had it with you!"

"How dare you –"

"Don't you 'how dare you' me, Vegeta," Bulma hissed, poking him in the chest. "Now both of you calm down before I put you all in a coma!"

Vegeta batted her hand away and turned back to Raditz. He was practically blinded with rage. The woman had no right to talk to him in such a disrespectful manner. She was breaking down his pride in front of these inferior warriors. "Well, get on with it!"

Bulma scowled at him before going around to pull the IV out of Raditz's arm that was supplying him with the coma-inducing drug. She knew he wouldn't instantly regain consciousness, but it would be soon. Until then, Vegeta and the other saiyan would just have to wait a while. She put a bandage on Raditz's arm and sat on the edge of the bed. "It'll be a few minutes before the drugs wear off."

"Hn."

"You always were a big talker," Bulma grumbled.

No one else said anything for a few minutes. The tension was thick in the air; the earthlings wanted to get the saiyans out of Capsule Corporation, and the saiyans were waiting for their comrade to wake up. They didn't believe he was in as good condition as the woman claimed. It was hard to keep a saiyan down for a year. Something else had to be going on. But there was nothing for them to do besides wait.

The occupants of the room jumped when the door opened. "Oh, there you are," Mrs. Brief said as she came in. She was pushing a cart with a tray of cupcakes, a pitcher of lemonade, and several glasses on it. "I brought your refreshments."

"Thanks, Mom," Bulma said. "Has Goku come yet?"

"I haven't seen him, dear." Mrs. Brief started pouring lemonade into the glasses. "Are you expecting him?"

"Sort of."

Mrs. Brief handed the lemonade to everyone gathered in the room. She stopped when she gave Vegeta his glass. He wasn't quick to accept it from her, and when she finally shoved it into his hand, the first thing he did was sniff it, as if expecting to detect the scent of poison. She thought that was a rather odd reaction to have to a plain glass of lemonade. Her eyebrow quirked. "You sure do look familiar," she finally said.

Bulma laughed nervously and pulled her mother away from the saiyan prince. "Yeah, he should. I'll explain when Goku gets here. Why don't you give everyone cupcakes?"

Though the cheerful homemaker was sidetracked, Vegeta kept his eyes on her. She, too, seemed familiar. She was a very brazen woman. Learning she was the blue-haired woman's mother came as no surprise, aside from the obvious lack of intelligence she had. She was also much less confrontational. He decided he preferred her company, especially when she gave him a chocolate cupcake. He was wary of it at first, but after the first bite he quickly finished off the whole batch of them. He wouldn't have even cared if they were drugged. The fact that he felt he could trust her made him feel uneasy. He hadn't trusted anyone besides Nappa and Raditz in his life. At least, not since he was taken away from his home planet.

"So why is everyone here?" Mrs. Brief asked her daughter. She looked around the small room, now cramped with the large group of people in it.

Bulma raked her hand through her hair. "It's kind of a long story. You see that little guy with the spiky hair and the big bald guy with the mustache? They're here for Raditz."

"Oh. Oh! Are they the saiyans you mentioned?"

Bulma sighed and nodded. "Yeah. I took Raditz off the drugs keeping him in a coma. He should be waking up soon."

"Is that safe?"

"I don't know. I hope so."

Vegeta heard the first part of their conversation, but stopped paying attention after a while. It was nothing new or interesting to him. He left Nappa to watch the others and make sure they didn't try to spring an attack on them while he closed his eyes and retreated into his mind to monitor his mental link with Raditz. He hadn't felt anything from the long-haired warrior since his battle a year ago, but now that he was supposedly able to come out of his coma, he wanted to be aware of him regaining consciousness so he could stop him before he started firing ki blasts and throwing punches at anyone close enough to hurt him. He meant to keep his word even if he resented having to give it in the first place.

He didn't know how much time passed before he felt a stirring on the other end of the mental link. After being a vegetable for so long it took a while for the haziness in Raditz's mind to lift. That gave Vegeta ample time to order him not to hurt anyone around him, especially the woman with blue hair. When Raditz opened his eyes for the first time in a year, he was visibly angry, which wasn't unexpected considering he was being held in a coma. It was just another form of imprisonment. Saiyans hated being caged; they would sooner be killed in battle than taken as prisoners. Despite his rage, though, he did not lash out at anyone, even when he saw his younger brother standing on the opposite side of the room. His ki flared with his rage.

_"What the hell is he doing here? He should be dead."_

Vegeta looked over at the tailless saiyan, who he hadn't noticed come in, and shrugged. _"He was. They brought him back."_

_ "Damnit! He doesn't deserve to live."_

_ "I am well aware of this."_

_ "Then why haven't you or Nappa killed him yet?"_

The saiyan prince sighed. _"It's complicated, but I promised the woman we wouldn't hurt anyone here."_

Raditz's eyes shifted to the blue-haired woman. He quirked an eyebrow. _"Why?"_

_ "As I said, it's complicated." _Vegeta abruptly cut the mental link. He didn't want to answer any more questions Raditz might have regarding the woman and her friends. He was ashamed of himself for having such an enormous weakness because of his past foolishness. He didn't want to talk about it.

Raditz sat up in the bed, ignoring the way it made his head swim. "Hello, brother," he growled.

Goku frowned. "Hey, _brother_."

Mrs. Brief looked back and forth between the two third-class saiyans. "Bulma, honey, you never mentioned this young man was Goku's brother."

"It doesn't matter, Mom," Bulma groaned. "Where's Dad?"

"In his lab."

"Good." Bulma walked to the phone and dialed the extension to her father's laboratory. She twisted the cord around her finger while she waited for him to pick up. It took him four rings.

"Dr. Brief speaking."

"Hey, Dad," Bulma said. "I need you in the infirmary right away."

"Is something the matter, dear?"

"Sort of. Please hurry."

"I'm on my way." Dr. Brief hung up the phone and immediately left his lab.

Bulma hung up the phone and leaned against the wall. Her eyes turned up to the ceiling as she silently prayed to Kami that things would go well when she explained her history with Vegeta to her friends and the fact that Vegeta was one of the killer saiyans to her parents. She didn't even have Vegeta to back up her story because he apparently couldn't remember a thing about his time spent on Earth as a boy. That was just great. She was alone on this one in the middle of a bunch of men pumped up on testosterone and adrenaline who wanted to beat each other silly. Fantastic. She shook her head as she returned to her mother's side to wait for her father to come.

Mrs. Brief leaned over and whispered, "I can see why you brought them home. The one with the hair sure is a handsome young man."

The blue-haired woman blushed as she peeked over at Vegeta. She hadn't even noticed what he looked like. To her, he was still Vegeta, her sort-of older brother with a bad attitude and sharp tongue. But now that her attention had been drawn to it, she couldn't help but notice how attractive the Prince of all Saiyans really was. She liked his deep widow's peak and how purely black his hair was. His eyes were even darker. Frightening, yet beautiful. Her eyes moved up and down his body. He was short, but he was built like a god. His tight bodysuit left little to the imagination. She blushed deeper. "Now isn't the time to think about that, Mom. Besides, I'm engaged to Yamcha. Even if he is dead for a year…"

"What do you mean Yamcha's dead, sweetie?"

"I'll explain when Dad gets here."

As if on cue, Dr. Brief came into the small room. He shut the door behind him and looked around at all the visitors. He had to do a double take when he saw Vegeta. There stood a man he hadn't seen before, but he looked so familiar. How could he not? It was hard to forget such features as a tall flame of coal black hair, sharp, black eyes, and such a severe widow's peak. He gaze shifted down, taking in the man's body. He was wearing some kind of armor, a full bodysuit, boots, and gloves. And around his waist was something brown and furry. He stuffed his hands in his pocket as he walked across the room to stand next to his wife and daughter.

"Alright, well now that Dad's here," Bulma mumbled. She cleared her throat. "First, Mom and Dad, you remember Vegeta, don't you?"

Dr. Brief's mustache twitched as his suspicions were confirmed. He nodded to his daughter. Mrs. Brief was a little slower to make the connection. Of course she remembered Vegeta. How could she forget him? She still thought of him as her son. She looked over at the man with the tall hair and started connecting the dots in her mind. Now that she was thinking about it, he was impossible to mistake. Even after nearly two decades had passed, he looked almost exactly the same. His features, especially his eyes, were harsher, but through that she could see the homeless boy her daughter brought home all those years ago. Tears welled up in her eyes. "Vegeta?"

Bulma smiled a little. "That's him, Mom. He finally came back, just like he promised."

"Oh, Vegeta!" Mrs. Brief launched herself at the saiyan and wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly despite his struggles to get away from her. She heard his warning growl but ignored it, not thinking twice about hugging a mass murderer. To her, he was the same little Vegeta she had known when he was a child. "You came home! You finally came home!"

Hearing the growl, Goku moved to keep Vegeta away from Mrs. Brief, but Bulma grabbed his arm and held him back. "Don't interfere Goku, he'll recognize her. He won't hurt her."

"But Bulma!"

"Wait," she said firmly.

Vegeta tried to pull away from the crazy blonde woman, but she was immovable. He had as much success when he tried to push her away. He was stunned when he felt her small body shaking as she sobbed. But he didn't smell any fear on her. He was completely confused. Why was she crying? Why was she holding him? Why was she doing both at the same time? He looked over at Nappa for help, but he could only shrug in response.

"Woman, get off me."

"Oh, but I missed you so much, Vegeta." Mrs. Brief only held him tighter.

He put one arm awkwardly around her and patted her back. There wasn't much else he could do with her. He looked over her shoulder at the other woman. She was smiling at him. He snarled at her, but she was unabashed. Stupid humans. Vegeta sighed. Maybe they all knew him from when he was stranded on the planet. Maybe he knew them. Hesitantly, he sniffed Mrs. Brief's neck. His nostrils were filled with the scent of cinnamon and sugar. It brought with it another wave of almost-memories. So close, so out of reach. He sniffed her neck more, inhaling as deeply as he could, trying so hard to find the memories. It was maddening. Before he really knew what he was doing, he had both arms around her as he drowned himself in her comforting scent.

Bulma chuckled when she saw what was happening. He was remembering, kind of. "Well, anyway. Vegeta stayed on Earth with me and my parents when we were kids. I was only nine years old. I invited him to stay with us in April and he stayed with us until late September. I never knew he was an alien or really much of anything about him, but he was a good friend to me. He played with me and he even saved me and my mom from being kidnapped – twice. He went to school with me for a month in the fall. He's the one who got me started in martial arts. If it hadn't been for him I never would have taken up fighting."

"So you really did know him?" Goku asked, pointing at Vegeta. "Why didn't you ever mention him before?"

"Well, I guess by the time I met you it had been so long ago that I didn't think about him as much." Bulma looked down at the floor and drew circles with her toe. "It's funny. I did think you and he were probably connected somehow, what with the tails and superhuman strength and all. I never would have guessed you were an alien species."

Krillin laughed. "It is pretty wild. You transforming into the giant ape thing should have been a dead giveaway." He slapped Goku on the back.

"Giant ape?" Goku asked.

The short man covered his mouth with his hands. "Nothing, Goku. Giant ape thing? I don't know what you're talking about."

"Smooth, Krillin," Bulma murmured.

"You mean the oozaru?" Raditz interjected. "Not like he can transform anymore without his tail."

"Would you shut up!" Bulma screeched.

Raditz snapped his mouth shut. He was too surprised by her outburst to speak. Nappa started laughing while Goku's friends tried to cover the strange conversation by taking it in ten different directions at once.

"Now hold on everyone, let's just calm down," Dr. Brief said, his soft voice somehow managing to rise above all the others. He held up his hands to stop the myriad conversations and restore order.

The others all looked at him and gave a collective shout, "No!"

Vegeta felt strangely relaxed with the blonde woman. Being in her arms gave him a sense of security unlike any he felt when he was alone, no matter how strong he became. It was unreasonable, he told himself, but he didn't care. He felt safe with her, and he wanted to protect her. For some reason, with her, he didn't resent it as much as he did the blue-haired woman. It felt natural to want to defend her, to keep any harm from ever coming to her. He didn't listen to all the noise around him. None of that mattered, not when he was with the blonde woman. He very much wished he could remember her so he would know why. There must have been something special about her for him to feel so strongly even when he had no idea who she was. All he knew was her scent, and that was enough to make him care for her.

When the others stopped shouting, Bulma continued, "So that's the story about how I know Vegeta. You'll have to take my word for it because he doesn't seem to remember it. I'm not sure how he could forget almost a whole year, but he did." She shrugged one shoulder.

Nappa and Raditz exchanged a glance, then looked over at Vegeta. Their eyes widened. Was he purring? Was that his tail wrapped around the woman's wrist? Something strange was going on. Vegeta didn't remember these humans, but at the same time he was acting as if he did. Well, it was true that a saiyan never forgets anything that ever happens to him. Even if his explicit memories were taken away, he would still have his implicit memories intact.

_"Should I tell them about the experiment?" _Nappa asked Raditz.

Raditz looked around the room. He didn't trust any of them aside from his comrades. Did they have any right to know? He looked again at Vegeta. There was obvious attachment there. He was acting as if he was with his pack. Or, more specifically, his mother. Raditz shifted uncomfortably. _"Do what you think is best. I don't think Vegeta will mind. Have you told him?"_

_ "Not completely."_

_ "You might as well explain it in full now."_

Nappa nodded. He rubbed his head, wondering where to start. "Vegeta can't remember you because of something that was done to him after he returned to Frieza."

A hush fell through the room when Nappa spoke. It was the first time they had heard him say more than a few words at a time when he wasn't taunting them. And he didn't sound terribly angry this time, either. He still didn't look or sound like he was happy to be speaking to them, but at least he was saying something that might be helpful in understanding Vegeta.

"Frieza wanted to send a purge team to this planet after Vegeta told him how he got away. Vegeta had formed… attachments… with someone here and he tried to fight Frieza."

"Who's Frieza?" Bulma asked.

The two saiyans cringed. "Don't worry about that right now," Raditz said.

Bulma huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine. Go on."

Nappa sneered at her before continuing his story. "Frieza saw that Vegeta's power increased when he threatened this planet, so he had one of his scientists take his memories away. I'm not sure exactly how it was done, but through some crazy experiment Vegeta's memories of here were taken away. They're still in his brain somewhere, but he can't find them. Supposedly Frieza wants him to get them back sometime later. After he's destroyed this mudball."

"My word. That's awful," Dr. Brief said. He pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and put one in his mouth without lighting it. "Perhaps there is some way we could help, if we could figure out what was done in the first place."

Bulma rubbed her chin. "I don't see why not. What was done can be undone."

The two scientists nodded in agreement. If they could somehow decipher what was done to make Vegeta forget his time on Earth, then they could probably reverse the effects. They wanted Vegeta to remember them. They were happy enough to have him back anyway, but it would be a better reunion if he actually knew who they were. At least he wasn't still trying to kill people. That was a step in the right direction. It was terrible to know that this Frieza character, whoever he was, probably the one responsible for all the abuse Vegeta suffered through, would have something so inhumane done to him. Messing with a person's mind was worse than any physical damage. It was abominable. They reached their conclusion without much hesitation. They were going to figure out what was done to Vegeta and bring back all his lost memories.

_A/N: I hate virus scans that freeze up my computer when I'm trying to make changes to the chapter before posting and then they're all lost. Anyway, today I was figuring out the days for posting chapters and I found that the story (as planned) will be completed on September 1. I'm working on writing chapter 56 right now, so hopefully that'll be done soon. Oh, and over 100 people picked me as a favorite author? I'm flattered. Thanks, guys!_

_For those who care, I'm also trying to write another chapter of _Guardian of Vegeta-sei. _Working through writer's block ain't easy. I could use a beta for that story. And _Power_. Speaking of, if you haven't read that one, I would suggest it if you like M-rated dark fics not likely to have a very happy ending._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl._

_Review!_


	44. Memories Restored

Memories Restored

Mrs. Brief had a hard time letting go of Vegeta. Once he stopped fighting her, the last thing she wanted to do was leave his embrace. Here was her long lost son, now a grown man with a dark past. She didn't care what he had done or what the others considered him to be, he was still her little Vegeta, the son she could never have. She loved him now as much as she did when he was a boy. She didn't care what the others were bickering about. She didn't listen to them, at least, not until they started talking about what was done to Vegeta to make him forget his previous stay on Earth.

"How could they do something so awful to you, Vegeta?" she whispered.

He grunted. "You don't know the type of people I work for."

"No," she agreed, "I suppose I don't. But it doesn't matter. You're never going back to them. Not again. We can't lose you again."

Vegeta shook his head. "Don't be absurd, woman. If I don't return they'll come here to kill me and destroy the whole planet. Even if I wanted to stay here, I couldn't."

It hurt when he said he didn't want to stay on Earth. She knew that he didn't remember them because of some crazy experiment that sounded more like an excerpt from a science fiction novel, but she still wanted to believe that despite him not having his memories, he would want to stay on Earth where he could be safe from more horrendous tortures. His explanation that the planet would be destroyed wasn't enough to make her change her mind about keeping him there. They would find a way to free him from this Frieza monster somehow. When the Earth's greatest minds combined with its greatest warriors, they were always able to overcome anything that came their way. Frieza would be no different. The problem would be convincing Vegeta that this was so. He didn't seem to like the others very much. He didn't trust them.

"Well, there's no rush. You can stay as long as you'd like. I think my husband and Bulma would be able to figure out how to restore your memories, if you want them to."

Vegeta finally pulled away from Mrs. Brief and looked over at Bulma and Dr. Brief. They weren't saying anything, but they looked thoughtful. Their brows were furrowed and their mouths turned down in concentration. He turned his gaze to Nappa, who was looking at Raditz and making subtle facial expressions as they conversed mentally. He glanced around at the other warriors, who were all eyeing him with distrust and hostility. That was expected. He _did_ want to remember, if for no other reason than he resented having his mind tampered with. But could he trust the humans to reverse what was done? Did they have the technology for it?

Putting his faith in someone to help him out was not something he had much experience in doing. They claimed to know him, even care about him, but he didn't remember them at all. For all he knew, he recognized their scents because he was around them and they did horrible things to him. They _were_ scientists, apparently, and they were able to keep Raditz in a coma for a whole year. Could he trust them? Without his memories, he wasn't sure. In the back of his mind, he knew he had nothing to worry about, but his uncertainty was overbearing. Why would these strangers want to help _him_? Especially after he tried to kill all their friends and succeeded in killing the one who was going to be mated to the blue-haired woman? Surely she held some sort of grudge. He didn't think it would be wise to let her go playing around in his brain. Definitely not.

At the same time, he wanted his memories back. Nappa had shown his memories of Vegeta going berserk and trying to take on Frieza and Zarbon to protect Earth. He showed him his memories of his power level skyrocketing to over 30,000 when he was only 12 years old. That was unreal. His power had only managed to reach 30,000 several months ago without him having to push so hard it tore his body apart inside. How could he have exceeded that years ago with no ill effects? Was Nappa lying to him, or was there something in his memories that gave him that tremendous power boost? If his power was able to jump 20,000 points back then, what could it do now if he had the same memories to fuel his energy? Restoring those memories to find out certainly was tempting.

But there was always the question of whether or not it was even possible. He didn't know much about these humans. They had the means to keep a saiyan in a coma, but did they have the medical technology to perform brain surgery that would undo the experiment? They couldn't possibly understand saiyan anatomy and physiology as well as Malaka. He spent most of his lifetime studying the saiyans. These people hadn't. They might end up doing more harm than good if he allowed them to try their own experiment on him. What if they had the technology, though? Worse, what if their technology surpassed Frieza's? Could they implant memories or brainwash him somehow to make him their slave? Why else would they want to 'help' him? There had to be some benefit for them.

He was attached to these people somehow. He didn't know why or how it happened, but it did. He could feel it even if he couldn't remember a thing about them. The only reason he even knew their names was because the blue-haired woman introduced herself to him. How could he care about someone whose name he didn't even know? It was ridiculous. It made no sense. But he had known their names at one time. He had known much more than their names, too. Maybe he could trust them. He looked at Mrs. Brief, who was smiling, sniffling, and wiping her eyes with the corner of a handkerchief. She seemed harmless enough. And he felt safe with her. How could he feel safe with someone if she had a history of inflicting harm on him? Did that matter? He didn't feel that sort of safety with the younger woman. Granted, he felt protective with her. How disgusting. He wasn't a protector. He was a killer. And yet, he couldn't kill her. Was that enough reason to trust her? What about the man? He didn't know how he felt about him yet.

The man was an odd-looking creature. He was short, he had shaggy gray hair with a matching gray mustache, he wore thick glasses, a plain blue shirt with an oversized, wrinkled white lab coat over it. And on his shoulder was perched a small animal, all black with big round eyes and big ears. The man had a stick of something held between his lips that he could smell from across the room. It wasn't pleasant. He had a feeling it could smell much worse, though. Even after analyzing the man, Vegeta still didn't know what to think of him.

"That is your husband?" Vegeta asked, indicating Dr. Brief with a nod of his head.

"Yes, that's him," Mrs. Brief answered.

Vegeta looked from the man to the woman, then back. His eyebrow raised. What was he doing mated to her? He looked like he was decades older than her. Not only that, but this man was possibly some kind of genius. While he did like the woman, he could tell she didn't have much in the way of smarts. What an odd pair. He dismissed that thought. He had more important matters to attend to. He phased across the room in front of Dr. Brief and picked him up by his shirt collar.

In an instant Goku was there next to him, prepared to throw him away from Dr. Brief. But before he could make his attack, Vegeta's free hand clamped around his throat and squeezed. Ignoring Goku and Dr. Brief's sounds of surprise, Vegeta sniffed his neck. It was hard to find the man's actual scent buried under axel grease, tobacco, and cologne. When he finally found it, he again felt he knew the man. As if from a dream long forgotten, he knew him. He felt he should respect this man for some reason. In a way, he felt he should be vying for his man's approval even though he never cared about anyone's approval before. He set the man down on his feet and only then realized he was still holding the earthling saiyan's throat while his friends tried to pry him free. He released him with a snarl.

"You'd better stop trying to fight me before I lose patience and kill you."

Goku rubbed his throat and glared at the prince. "Maybe if you'd stop trying to hurt these people—"

Dr. Brief chuckled and patted Goku's back. "Don't worry, Goku, he wasn't trying to hurt me. He was just, er, scenting me, I believe."

Vegeta huffed and stalked across the room to lean against Raditz's bed. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at all the other warriors in the room. Meddling fools. He should kill them all, but he made that damned promise to the blue-haired woman. "You think you can bring back my memories?"

Bulma sighed. "Well, it wouldn't be easy. We would need to see what was done first before we can make any promises."

"Of course." Vegeta rolled his eyes. It could never be easy. At least the woman had the good sense not to promise him anything when she didn't know if she could deliver. "What would you need to do?"

"Well, first of all…" Bulma turned around and pulled a syringe out of drawer. "We'll need to give you a shot."

"A shot?" Goku yelped when he saw the syringe in Bulma's hand. Before anyone could stop him, he ran out of the room with his friends and son trailing after him, trying to convince him to come back in case the saiyans tried anything without them watching. He wasn't swayed. He would not be in the same room as a needle.

Vegeta snorted. "Why the hell would I need an injection, woman?"

Bulma put the syringe away. "To get rid of Goku and the others. I assume you don't want them hanging around here all day."

Vegeta smirked. Maybe there was more to the woman than he originally thought. Getting Kakarrot to leave wouldn't have been an easy task if he had resorted to fighting him, but apparently the fool had a fear of needles intense enough to make him leave the room if he so much as saw one, even if he wasn't the one receiving it. The woman knew her comrades well. That was something he could respect. Knowing one's allies was as important as knowing one's enemies. It was important to be familiar with their limitations. Not usually to use against them, but he wasn't going to say anything in this case. At least he didn't have a bunch of enemies hovering around watching his every move, ready to strike for no reason. He could easily defend himself against them, but at least now he could relax – a little.

"So what do you really need to do?" he asked.

"Vegeta," Raditz interjected, "You're not really going to trust them, are you?"

The flame-haired saiyan shrugged. "Why not? You're here to keep an eye on them. If they do anything to harm me, you can kill them." He wasn't going to tell Nappa and Raditz that he actually did trust these humans. If anything, he was curious to know why. If they could restore his memories, then he would know. It might also help him figure out how to break his attachments if they proved to be less than helpful in gaining power.

Nappa nodded once. "We'll make sure they don't try any funny business."

"Good." Vegeta turned back to Bulma and Dr. Brief. "What do you need to do?"

Bulma bit her bottom lip and looked over at her father. He shrugged one shoulder. She took a deep breath and released it slowly. "I guess the first thing is to see what's going on in your brain. So, I guess an fMRI might be best. What do you think, Dad?"

"That sounds reasonable."

"What's an fMRI?" Vegeta asked. He didn't want them to do anything without thoroughly explaining first.

"It's a functional magnetic resonance imagining scan," Bulma answered. "Basically, the machine gives us a three dimensional picture of your brain and it shows what areas of your brain are most active given different stimuli. We can use it to find where your memories are and see if there's any part of your brain that isn't active that should be. That's probably where your memories of us are. The best part of this type of scan is that it's noninvasive."

Vegeta shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Honestly, it made him nervous to willingly allow someone to perform any sort of medical procedure on him. "I can be fully conscious during the scan?"

"Absolutely. How else would we know what part of your brain is activated by outside stimuli?"

His lip curled. Obviously they didn't know much about saiyans if they thought he had to be conscious to mentally respond to his environment. It didn't matter. At least they wouldn't want to knock him out for the scan. "Fine."

"Alright. We're going to have to go to headquarters in the city then," Bulma said. She held her father's arm and left the room.

Vegeta raked his hand through his hair. He was having second thoughts. "Well, come on you idiots." He walked out of the room with Nappa and Raditz behind him. He spotted Bulma and Dr. Brief down the hall and caught up with them as they walked to the front door of the compound. They went outside and Bulma pulled a small device out of her pocket and tossed it on the ground. From it appeared a convertible hovercar.

"You guys all coming?" she asked as she opened the door and got in the driver's seat. Her father went around and got in the passenger side.

"This is ridiculous," Vegeta snarled as he got in the back seat and scooted to the middle. Nappa and Raditz got in on either side of him, making for a very uncomfortable ride smashed between them. Bulma adjusted her rearview mirror to try to see over his upright hair. She giggled when she saw his scowl.

"It'll only take a few minutes to get there. Hang on." She noticed when she started the car that it had trouble leaving the ground. The saiyans in the back were extremely heavy and they were weighing the car down. She hoped they could make it all the way to headquarters without crashing or scraping the ground. She didn't want to have to repair her newest hovercar so soon after getting it. Bulma pulled out of the driveway and drove to headquarters as fast as she dared with her heavy load.

She stopped in front of a tall skyscraper that easily consumed a whole city block. She got out of the driver's seat and walked around the car to the sidewalk leading up to the main entrance. Meanwhile, the saiyans and Dr. Brief got out of the car so she could capsulate it before going inside. With her capsule tucked safely in her pocket, she led the way inside. She and Dr. Brief greeted the receptionist at the front desk and went to the elevator. They were waiting for an elevator when a small group of Capsule Corporation employees walked by. They looked at the saiyans and steered clear of them.

"Hopefully no one recognizes you from the news. They probably haven't seen any reports yet," Bulma said as an afterthought. They heard a cheerful ding as the elevator doors finally opened. The Briefs stepped onto the elevator. The saiyans didn't. Raditz and Nappa were waiting for Vegeta, but he wasn't planning on entering such a small space, even if he wasn't alone. When the doors started sliding closed, Bulma held them open and met Vegeta's gaze. "Vegeta, you need to get on."

"I'm not getting on that thing," he grumbled, taking a step back.

"Why not?"

Vegeta shook his head and backed up another step. The longer he looked at it the smaller it seemed. He backed up until he bumped into Raditz and Nappa. They exchanged a glance, understanding what was going on in his mind, and sighed. Nappa pushed Vegeta forward, fighting against the prince's resistance until he was across the threshold. "We'll be with you, Vegeta," he said, so low the humans couldn't hear.

Bulma released the doors. "You guys wait for the next elevator. These have a weight limit you'll probably exceed. Come to the tenth floor. We'll wait for you."

Nappa and Raditz looked like they were about to argue, but the doors closed in their faces before they had the chance. Nappa glowered at Raditz. "I don't like this at all."

Raditz shrugged. "I don't know if we can trust them, but they're the best chance we've got of getting Vegeta's memories back. We'll just have to go with it."

"Sometimes I think you'll go along with anything." They looked up and watched the number above the elevator doors changing, steadily increasing until it reached 12. There it paused, then came back down again, stopping at the tenth floor to pick up more passengers.

There was another ding as another set of doors opened and a few men and women dressed in white lab coats exited the elevator. Nappa and Raditz got onto it before the doors closed. Raditz pushed the button next to the number 12 and crossed his arms over his chest. He glared at his reflection in the opposite wall of the elevator. They waited a few seconds before the elevator gave another ding and the doors slid open. The two large saiyans stepped off and saw Bulma, Dr. Brief, and Vegeta waiting for them in the hall. They joined them as they started walking down the long hall with Bulma leading the way.

When they came to crossways of two halls, Bulma took a left. She greeted the employees she saw meandering in the hallway, most of them writing notes on clipboards or walking hurriedly to another room somewhere on the floor. Each employee would stop and greet both her and Dr. Brief with respect, then continue on their way. Vegeta wondered why everyone would treat them with such respect. It wasn't that he didn't think they weren't worthy of it, but it made him wonder what their position was that they would automatically earn respect from everyone they met. He was broken from his thoughts when Bulma abruptly stopped to open a door on the right side of the hall. She went inside with her father. The saiyans followed close behind. The room was big, but there was a large machine that made the room hot and stuffy.

Bulma led them over to the machine, which had a table that moved into a cylindrical opening. Vegeta didn't like it. If he was supposed to go in that thing, he would refuse. He didn't particularly care for small spaces. Other than his space pod, he stayed out of any place where he couldn't move freely ever since his experience on base 35.

"Ok, Vegeta, do you have any metal on you?" Bulma asked. He took off his scouter and handed it to her. She nodded. "Good. Now I need you to lie down here." She pointed to the table that Vegeta already decided he wasn't going to lie down on.

"No."

"What?"

"I said no."

"Yeah, I heard you," she grumbled. "But you've got to lie down on this thing if we're going to do this scan. You do want your memories back, don't you?"

"Not if it means going in there." He took a step back from the machine.

Bulma put her hands on her hips. "Don't tell me you're scared, Vegeta."

Nappa growled and stepped forward, putting himself between his prince and the woman. "Don't even joke about that, wench."

Vegeta took another step back, bumping into Raditz. "I'm not going in there."

Bulma moved to the other side of the table. She wanted a barrier between herself and the big saiyan, even if he could easily get around it. "But you have to. This is the best scan available. If you don't do this, then we might never figure out how to bring your memories back."

Raditz looked at the machine. He could see why Vegeta didn't want to get in it. The space was very small. He doubted he would even be able to fit in it. Vegeta would be extremely confined in there. He understood why he hated small spaces. He couldn't blame him. And he definitely wasn't going to push Vegeta to do anything that might make him break with reality again. Still, the woman probably knew what she was talking about. He didn't remember specifically what happened while he was in a coma, but he knew that she was highly intelligent and that she had access to the best medical equipment on the planet. He sighed. If Vegeta wanted his memories back, this would be his best chance.

_"You should do it, Vegeta. Don't worry, me and Nappa will be right here in case anything happens."_

Vegeta glanced over his shoulder at Raditz, who gave him an encouraging nod and a nudge toward the machine. He hesitantly moved forward. His tail was bristled by the time he reached the table. He didn't want to do this. But he couldn't show fear. He took a deep breath and got on the table. Sweat trickled down his temples.

"Don't worry, Vegeta," Bulma said as she started strapping him down. She saw his muscles tense. "I'm doing this so you can't move too much in there. Movement messes up the image of your brain and we'd have to do this all over again. This should only take fifteen to twenty minutes. I'll ask you questions while you're in there and you just have to try to think of the answers, ok?"

"Hn."

"I should also warn you that the machine can be pretty loud."

He frowned. "How loud is loud?"

"Loud." Bulma finished strapping him in. "I need everything metal to get out of this room. That means your communicator goes," she said to Nappa. "And if you have anything else metal it needs to be left outside the room for the duration of the scan. Metal can interfere with the machine."

Nappa took off his scouter and handed it to Bulma. Neither he nor Raditz had anything else metal. They never carried anything with them aside from their scouters and armor, which didn't have any metal on it anywhere. Bulma carried the two scouters out of the room and came back a minute later. She went over to the fMRI machine and typed in some commands.

"Just relax, Vegeta," she said. "This won't hurt. All you have to do is lie still and try to remember, ok?"

Vegeta swallowed. "Get on with it already."

Dr. Brief nodded and pushed the button to move the table into the machine. Vegeta felt his heart pounding in his chest. He was enclosed on all sides. He couldn't move. He was trapped. He tried moving, but he was restrained. Forget this, it wasn't worth it. He wanted out. He struggled more until he broke the restraints. He had to get out.

"He's panicking," Bulma muttered.

"We'll have to bring him out," Dr. Brief said.

"No, keep him in there," Raditz said. He looked away when he saw the incredulous look Nappa was giving him. "We can calm him down. Just keep going. He has to remember."

"Are you crazy?" Nappa hissed.

"Look, we want him to get his memories back, don't we? Yes, this is uncomfortable for him right now, but it's not going to hurt him. So we'll just calm him down and help him through it. It's worth it, don't you see that?"

Nappa rubbed his hand over his face. "Fine. But if we can't calm him down it's over."

"Right."

"Are you sure you guys are going to be able to help?" Bulma asked skeptically.

Raditz snarled at her. "Of course we can help! Shut up and do your own job, wench."

Bulma huffed indignantly as she turned back to the computer screen. She hoped they could do something to get Vegeta calmed down soon or he would probably destroy the whole machine in his efforts to get out. She had to admit, if anyone knew how to deal with Vegeta, it was probably those two. As tired as she was of the way they treated her and her friends and family, she was counting on them to help with Vegeta. The goal was to get his memories back, not to make friends with the saiyans. She had to keep that in mind when working with the brutes.

A few minutes passed with the two large saiyans trying to get through to Vegeta via their mental links. The whole time he was thrashing around in the machine, blindly flailing his arms and legs in desperate attempts to get out. Bulma bit her lip as she monitored the machine to make sure it wasn't being damaged in the process. She tried to block out his cries. He was worse than a caged, terrified animal in there. She could sense a deeper fear, something that stemmed from a terrible experience. Was he claustrophobic before? She didn't think he was. Something had happened during the past seventeen years to make him so afraid of small spaces.

Dr. Brief reached over and rubbed her back. "He'll be alright, Bulma."

"I know." She cringed when she heard another roar erupt from inside the machine. "But I don't think he does."

"Get me out of here!" Vegeta bellowed, his voice raw. "Right now!"

Bulma looked to her father for support. He shrugged one shoulder and frowned. He didn't like putting Vegeta through this any more than she did, but he, like the saiyans, thought it would be best to keep him in there until he calmed down. It was likely that if he was taken out before the scan could be done that he would never go back in and then they would have no way of knowing how to undo the experiment done on his brain.

Several more minutes passed before the yelling ceased. The only thing they could hear coming from the machine was Vegeta's labored breathing. Bulma started the scan when he stayed quiet for another minute. She was trusting the saiyans to keep him from moving around since the restraints were broken. Hopefully the noise of the machine wouldn't make him panic all over again. If it did, she was tempted to call the whole thing off. He could live without his memories of Earth. She didn't have the heart to prolong the procedure if he was that scared. She promised herself never to mention his behavior to him or anyone else. She knew he had a huge, fragile ego sustained only by his pride. She didn't want to do anything to hurt him. Not when she was using ammunition created by his horrifying experiences while away in space.

Bulma and Dr. Brief were both surprised at how well the scan went once Vegeta stopped moving. They and the saiyans asked him many questions about his memories right up to the point where he couldn't remember and the memories right after. They asked questions about his time on Earth, but he couldn't remember anything. At least, no explicit memories. The scientists made a thorough, detailed map of Vegeta's brain of the most active areas when he was remembering and found there was one tiny area in the midst of the other memories that never became active in correlation with any questions. In fact, it seemed to activate on its own on a set time interval. That had to be a result of the experiment. Now they just had to figure out what to do about it. They took Vegeta out of the scan machine and he instantly scrambled off the table and shot across the room to be as far away from it as possible. His tail was bristled and tight around his waist and his eyes were wide and shifted nervously around the room. He looked like a cornered animal. It broke Bulma's heart when she saw him.

"Well, the good news is we've found an area that might be where your lost memories are located," Dr. Brief said. "That bad news is, we still don't know exactly what was done or how to fix it. I don't think any brain scan is going to show us that. We would have to actually look at your brain. That's an awfully risky experiment."

Vegeta was quick to regain his composure once he got away from his confinement. He smoothed out his tail and rolled his shoulders back. "I don't care what the risks are. Do it."

"But Vegeta, we could inadvertently cause brain injury."

The saiyan prince rolled his eyes and stalked over to them to look at the images of his brain. "You can't cause any irreparable damage that easily. Unlike you pathetic humans, saiyans can recover from almost anything. Even brain damage."

Bulma's eyebrows raised. "You're serious?"

"Of course, woman." Vegeta looked through the different scans and saw the area that they must have pinpointed as the area in question. Its activation was completely unrelated to any of the areas around it. "As long as I can be fully conscious during the operation, you can look for any obvious signs of something being done."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure!" he snapped.

Dr. Brief nodded. "Alright then. Come this way." He walked out of the room and went down the hall and turned left into another room. An operating room. There was advanced medical equipment to magnify the site of operation so doctors could see what they were doing on the microscopic level. "I'm no brain surgeon, and neither is my daughter. I would rather have one of our neurosurgeons perform this operation."

"I'm not letting any doctor play around in my brain. It's you or no one does it." Vegeta sat down on the bed. He was having a hard enough time trusting these two. He wasn't about to extend that weak trust to more people he didn't know and didn't have any sort of attachment to.

Bulma frowned and looked over the brain scans. The area in question was fairly deep. Even if he wasn't afraid of brain damage, she was. She didn't feel safe cutting into his skull and poking around without further research. "Alright, Vegeta. You win. We'll do the surgery, but not until we've consulted with some of our colleagues. We have some of the best neurosurgeons on the planet working for us and they'll be able to _tell _us how to do this. They won't have any direct involvement."

"How long will that take?" Vegeta grumbled.

"As long as it needs to." Bulma looked through the scans again and shrugged. "These are good images, so hopefully not too long. Dad, is Dr. Hable here today?"

"Yes, I believe so." Dr. Brief stroked his mustache and took the scans from Bulma. "He'll be able to help us. If you'll excuse us, Vegeta." He and Bulma walked out of the room, closing the door to give the saiyans privacy.

What was supposed to be a quick consultation turned into a three hour meeting involving several of Capsule Corporation's best neurosurgeons, neurologists, and neurobiologists. There was a long-winded debate over the ethics of the Briefs, who were primarily engineers, performing brain surgery. There was disagreement over the best location to go in and which tools to use to perform the operation. Finally, the location for entrance was agreed on – a one inch square area behind the patient's temple, directly above his ear. They would need a probe and an operating microscope among other things, which was actually rather obvious. The ethics debate was still unsettled by the time Dr. Brief and Bulma left the office.

Once they were out of the office, Bulma groaned and held her head in her hands. "That was like a full neurosurgical residency crammed into a three-hour span."

Dr. Brief chuckled and reached over to pat his daughter's back. "What did you expect, dear?" They were still chatting when they reached the operation room where, hopefully, the saiyans were still waiting. He opened the door and nodded his greeting when he saw the saiyan prince sitting on the operating table. Vegeta growled impatiently, his tail flicking and twitching behind him.

Bulma went over to the sink and started washing her hands. She wasn't thrilled about doing brain surgery on him. Maybe he was confident that his body could heal any damage done, but that didn't make her any less nervous. Besides, she was no medical doctor, let alone a surgeon. Frankly, the idea of cutting someone open was disgusting. She didn't know if she would be able to handle it without throwing up or passing out.

While Dr. Brief washed his hands and prepared to do surgery, Bulma carefully analyzed the brain scans one last time to figure out where exactly they needed to look for something. "You want to lie down, Vegeta?"

"No."

She chuckled. "Well, it would be easier for us if you did. So please, lie down."

Vegeta sneered as rested on the bed. He stared at the sterile white ceiling while Bulma felt around on his head for the place she wanted to go in. The feeling of her fingers in his head was not entirely unpleasant. He closed his eyes.

"Here." Bulma pushed his hair out of the way until she could see his scalp. She gasped when she saw a very thin scar right where her finger was. She followed the scar an inch before it dove down. Again, she followed it until it took a sharp turn toward the back of his head. It went across an inch before it turned up and met the first line she found. A one inch square area had been cut sometime before. She had definitely found the right place. "I don't believe this."

"Don't believe what?" Dr. Brief asked as he came over to see what she found.

Bulma traced the scar with her finger. "This scar. This has to be where they went in to do the operation."

"Remarkable." Dr. Brief looked at the brain scans and then at the area outlined by the scar. It matched up well enough. "I think you're right. Well, we know we have the right place."

"Stop blabbering and do something," Vegeta grumbled.

"You're so impatient," Bulma hissed. "We'll just shave this area and then we can get started."

"No shaving."

"We have to shave it for sanitary purposes."

"Don't worry about sanitation. It'll take more than your weakling earthling microorganisms to infect a full-blooded saiyan."

"Are you going to be this difficult through the whole procedure?"

"Only if you keep making stupid suggestions. Cut it open and figure out what was done to me so we can get this over with."

"Jerk." Bulma pulled on a pair of gloves and put on a face mask. Whether or not he thought he was immune to earthling bacteria, she wasn't so sure. She put on a scrub hat and started gathering the tools necessary for the procedure while her father suited up for surgery.

When they were finally ready, Bulma tried to cut into Vegeta's skull, but she had difficulty just getting through his skin. "Vegeta, your skull's too thick or something. We can't cut through it."

Vegeta snorted. "Have one of them cut through it with ki, then. I can't help it your tools are too primitive."

"Use ki?" Bulma asked. She snapped her fingers. "That's it!" She held up the small saw, concentrating her ki to it as she had taught herself to do with her sword. She grinned when the saw lit up with her energy. She carefully started cutting into Vegeta's skull, thrilled when it actually worked. Slowly, cautiously, she sawed through the skull until she could remove the square piece of bone. She was so pleased with herself she forgot to be disgusted by the sight of Vegeta's brain.

"That was brilliant, dear," Dr. Brief said.

"Thanks, Dad. Where's the probe?"

Dr. Brief handed it to Bulma. It wasn't until it was in her hand that the magnitude of what she was about to do hit her. She was performing brain surgery. She was not trained to do anything like that. She hardly dabbled in anything medical, let alone perform surgery assisted only by her father, who also stayed away from the medical sciences as much as he could. She gulped. Maybe rushing into this wasn't such a good idea. But his brain was there, exposed, and he was waiting for her to continue. It wasn't safe, but he assured her saiyans could heal from almost anything. She would have to be extra careful, that was all. She and her father already worked out the angle they needed to go in, so that wasn't a problem.

"I don't know if I can do this," she breathed.

"You'd damn well better do it," Vegeta snarled.

Dr. Brief took the probe from her. "Would you like me to do it?"

"Please do." Bulma switched places with her father and watched with apprehension as he stuck the probe in Vegeta's brain. She nearly gagged. "I don't think I can watch this."

"You're going to have to help me, Bulma," Dr. Brief said. "No one else can do it." He adjusted the equipment to help him see what he was doing deep in Vegeta's brain. It was strange seeing things at the cellular level. It was almost disorienting when he moved the probe. Any amount of movement was huge.

"I know," she sighed.

"There, I think that's the area." Dr. Brief sent a tiny electrical impulse to a neuron with the probe. "Did you notice anything, Vegeta?"

"No."

"Strange." Dr. Brief stimulated the neuron again. "Anything?"

"No."

Dr. Brief moved the probe to stimulate another neuron nearby. "What about that time?"

"I remembered the coordinates for planet 1084XR."

"Well, that's close." Dr. Brief stimulated another neuron. "What about now?"

"I remember entering the command to enter stasis."

"At least we know the electrical impulse is working." Dr. Brief frowned. "What's going on with this neuron, then?"

"Do you think it's one of the neurons that didn't activate in response to questions?" Bulma asked.

"Yes, I believe so."

"Can I take a look?" she asked.

"Be my guest." They again switched places. Bulma made tiny movements with the probe and watched the screen showing the individual neurons to see if there were any signs of something going on that shouldn't be. She stopped when she saw what appeared to be a miniscule node on one of the neurons. "What's that?"

Dr. Brief looked at the screen. "I'm not sure. Can you zoom in at all?"

"I think so." Bulma fiddled with the controls until she figured out how to change the magnification. She was able to enlarge the image a few times. She moved the probe again to relocate the neuron with the strange attachment. "There."

"I'll be darned. It looks like some sort of parasite or something."

"I wonder what would happen if we removed it." Bulma used the probe to detach the tiny device from the neuron. "Can you remember anything now, Vegeta?"

"Nothing I couldn't remember before."

"Then what the hell is this thing for?" Bulma wondered aloud. "It was obviously implanted, whatever it is."

"We should have a look at it. Take it out."

Bulma removed the probe from Vegeta's brain and handed it to her father. The microscopic device was on the end of the probe, but they couldn't see it without some sort of microscope. Dr. Brief stood up. "I'll take this to the medical lab and examine it. I don't think there's much else we can do until we figure out what the purpose of this device is."

"Ok, Dad. What do we do until then?"

"There's another probe here. Why don't you map out all the synaptic connections? There has to be some reason stimulating that neuron didn't make Vegeta conscious of any memories."

"Sounds tedious," Bulma muttered. She heard her father leave the room as she picked up the other probe and sterilized it before inserting it into Vegeta's brain. She quickly found the area they had been looking in before and started mapping out all the synaptic connections. She was glad Vegeta was being patient with them. He hadn't said much of anything through it all except when asked. She figured if there were anything obviously wrong he would mention it. So she kept probing deeper. Over an hour passed before Dr. Brief came back to the operation room and sat down next to Bulma.

"I found that its only purpose is to periodically send an impulse to the neuron it was attached to," he reported. He was baffled. Why would the neuron need to be stimulated every few seconds? The only explanation he could come up with was that the neuron was receiving no impulse from anywhere else. "Have you found the synaptic connections to the neuron it was attached to?"

"Yeah." Bulma pushed her diagram over to him to look at. "It's weird. It's only attached to neurons over here. The neurons next to it on all other sides aren't connected to it."

"Isn't it obvious?" Vegeta said. "Whatever connections those neurons would have had have been removed. I bet if you follow all those neurons that are connected you would find a dead end."

"How would that have been done?"

"How the hell should I know? I was apparently unconscious from trying to save your asses."

The corner of Bulma's mouth turned up. Vegeta always did have a way with words. "Well, we could build connections between these neurons."

"Could we just move the dendrites and axons to meet?" Dr. Brief asked.

"Maybe." Bulma moved the probe back to the neuron that had the impulse device. "You know, now that I think about it, these neurons over here are shaped kind of funny. It's like their axons purposely curve around these neurons and connect to other neurons farther away. That doesn't look natural."

"You're right."

Bulma moved the probe to the neuron connected to the long axon and stimulated it. "What do you remember now, Vegeta?"

"Waking up in the rejuvenation chamber."

She nodded. "See? I think the problem is that his memories have been bypassed. He remembers before and after these memories, but they're totally disconnected from all the surrounding memories. That device was attached to keep them alive since they weren't receiving any outside stimulation. It's genius, really."

"Yes, brilliant," Vegeta sneered. "If you know what's wrong, shut up and fix it."

"Well, excuse me," Bulma retorted in the most sarcastic tone she could muster. "We're the ones working here. Keep your mouth shut unless you have something useful to say."

"Stupid woman."

Bulma moved the probe to an area of the brain that perceives pain and sent a small shock through it. Vegeta winced in pain. "Serves you right, jerk." She moved the probe back to the hippocampal region.

Dr. Brief shook his head. "That was unethical, you know that, dear."

"Sorry, Dad."

"Don't apologize to me."

"I'm not apologizing to him. He deserved it."

The Briefs worked tirelessly well into the night trying to reconnect the right neurons so Vegeta could finally access his lost memories. It took a long time and it was frustrating and discouraging when the neurons refused to behave the way they wanted. Over time, though, they were able to train them to reform their natural connections and eventually the group of neurons that had been disconnected were receiving information from the surrounding neurons. That only left the problem of directing the axons to the appropriate dendrites to finish the reestablishment of the original connections. That was all guesswork. They had to go by trial and error based on Vegeta's reports of what he was remembering with each connection.

Bulma looked at the clock on the wall and groaned when she saw that it was after 2:00AM. They had been working nonstop for hours. She was tired and hungry. They couldn't stop for dinner. "Who knew we would spend the night rewiring someone's brain."

Dr. Brief chuckled. "We only have a few hundred more neurons to go."

"How encouraging."

"It is possible that with as many connections as we've made, the rest will form connections where they belong."

"Do we want to risk it?" Bulma asked through a yawn.

Dr. Brief moved another axon to a network of dendrites and stimulated the presynaptic neuron. "Why don't you go ahead and take a break, Bulma? Have some coffee and a sandwich or something." He wouldn't mind having a break as well, but he was willing to let his daughter have a break first. She was losing patience faster than him and would be more likely to make mistakes in her frustration if she didn't get some food and energy soon.

"Are you sure?" When she received a nod from him, Bulma pulled her gloves off and washed her hands before leaving the room. No one else was anywhere on the floor. She hated being in the headquarters building when it was so deserted. She went into the break room and flipped on the lights. She sighed when she saw a comfortable couch, a coffee machine on the counter, and a refrigerator with a stock of food for quick, easy meals.

She started a pot of coffee and pulled some bread, lunch meat, and cheese out of the refrigerator to make a couple sandwiches. She hadn't eaten since the snack she had in the infirmary, which wasn't exactly substantial. She downed two cups of coffee and sat on the couch to rest a few minutes. With a yawn, she laid down and closed her eyes. A quick power nap wouldn't hurt.

Bulma cracked her eyes open when she heard the door shut and footsteps moved across the room toward the counter where the coffee pot was. She yawned, stretching her arms over her head, and sat up. "What time is it?" she mumbled.

"Oh! Miss Brief! I'm sorry, I didn't know you were in here!"

Her fatigue forgotten, Bulma jumped to her feet and whirled around to see who was behind her. She didn't recognize the man. He was probably in his late twenties and he had thick brown hair and green eyes. He was much taller than her. She wondered why she had never seen him around before. He was kind of cute. She shook that thought away. "It's ok. But what time is it? Seems pretty early for people to be coming in to work."

"Miss Brief, it's after nine in the morning."

"After nine?" she shouted. "Oh no, Dad! I can't believe I fell asleep that long." She ran out of the break room and headed for the operation room. When she went inside, she found her father barely managing to stay awake. Nappa and Raditz were both sitting in chairs along the wall, their heads drooping with exhaustion. Vegeta was the only one who didn't look tired.

"Good morning, Bulma," Dr. Brief slurred. "I trust you slept well."

"I'm so sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to sleep that long." Bulma sat down next to him.

"It's alright, dear. I know how much you needed the rest." Dr. Brief stood up and stretched. "Why don't you take over for a while? I could use some coffee. I've made a lot of progress."

"Sure. Don't worry about coming back right away. I can handle this. You rest."

"Thank you, sweetheart."

Bulma went over to the sink and washed her hands before pulling on a new pair of gloves. "It's no problem." Bulma sat down again and looked at the screen to see where her father had been working. "So how are things going, Vegeta?"

"I remember you, if that's what you mean. I still don't know why I cared about you though. You were a whiny, self-absorbed brat."

"Same to you." Bulma chuckled and started attaching axons to dendrites. There was an obvious pattern that her father had been following. Maybe Vegeta's brain was orderly enough that she didn't have to test every single connection. It wouldn't surprise her. Everything about him was always neat and orderly. Instead of the cobwebs of dendrites and axons weaving around she would have expected, his were easy to follow with relatively few crisscrosses and tangles. "Looks like it's been going pretty fast. Has he been checking every connection still?"

"No. We found it works faster if he connects and I check the connection while he moves on. If there's anything wrong I tell him."

Bulma was impressed. "Wow, you're good."

"Cut the small talk and work. I'm as ready for this to be over as you."

"You got it, Veggie."

"Don't call me that."

Bulma smirked as she resumed her father's work rearranging axons and dendrites. At first she kept making mistakes, and Vegeta wasn't too kind when he told her so. After a while, though, she got the hang of it and made fewer mistakes. Vegeta seemed content enough to stay quiet, so she didn't bother talking to him. Besides, she didn't want to distract him from testing the connections by retrieving memories. Lunchtime came and went, and still Bulma was making synaptic connections. She was amazed at the complexity of the brain. How could all those neurons know what to do when the brain was growing and developing? It seemed impossible. She reminded herself to be careful not to get too interested in neurology. She didn't have time to pursue another doctorate.

It was mid-afternoon when Dr. Brief came back in looking rested and cleaned up. He was wearing a new shirt and lab coat and he smelled like he had recently taken a shower. Bulma smiled at him when he came over to her, though he couldn't see it because of the surgical mask. "How is it going, dear?"

"Good. I think I'm almost done."

"And how are you doing, Vegeta?"

"Fine."

"Very good." Dr. Brief sat down. "I told your mother to make a big dinner to celebrate."

Vegeta, now able to remember Mrs. Brief's cooking, perked up when he heard that. His mouth started watering. It had been a long, long time since he'd had a good meal. He was served disgusting entrees when he was with the lizard and the animals he ate on purge missions were not always satisfying. Not only that, but he and his comrades were not gourmet chefs and the meat was often either burned or undercooked if they bothered cooking it at all. Having a meal made by Mrs. Brief would be enjoyable, to say the least.

"Would you like me to finish up?" Dr. Brief asked.

Bulma shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Why don't you get those guys something to eat? They're probably starving."

Dr. Brief looked over at the two saiyans. The one Bulma kept in the infirmary was sleeping and the other one was nodding off. They hadn't slept at all. He nodded in agreement. "I'll be back with something for them in a few minutes."

"Thanks, Dad." Bulma sighed and sat back to rest a minute. "So where are we at in your memories?"

Vegeta shrugged. "I'm eating dinner with your family the night I left."

"I guess that means we're almost done, huh?"

"Hn."

"No need to thank me," she joked. "This shouldn't take much longer."

Vegeta didn't reply. He was glad the operation was almost finished. He was alert, unlike the others, but he was still tired. He didn't feel any pain from the incision anymore. Actually, that stopped hurting a few minutes after it was done. There was no feeling when they were poking around in his brain, but it was strange to suddenly have memories long forgotten flooding through his mind. He saw people and places that he hadn't thought about since leaving Earth. He felt a new sense of attachment to the woman and her parents that went even deeper now that he understood why. Most of all, he felt he could trust them. He was no longer concerned about them trying to hurt him or screw with his mind. He wanted to leave the operation room and go back to the Capsule Corporation compound, have a good meal, take a hot shower in his own bathroom, and sleep in a comfortable bed. Really, he just wanted to be with his pack.

Dr. Brief returned with a crate filled with Chinese take-out and set it on the empty chair next to Nappa. "Here you go. Lunch courtesy of West City's finest Chinese restaurant. I'm sure there won't be enough for a full meal, but we wouldn't want to ruin your appetite for dinner."

Nappa sniffed the food in the box. "Chinese?"

Raditz, who had woken up a few minutes prior, leaned over the elite soldier to have a whiff of the delicious scents. "Take-out?"

Nappa pushed him away. He still didn't trust the humans. He wasn't going to readily accept any food they offered him. He had to be sure it wasn't poisoned or drugged or something. He pulled one of the white boxes out of the crate and opened it. There was white grains of something in it. A puff of steam rose out. He sniffed it more closely. "What is it?"

"That's steamed rice," Dr. Brief told him.

"What's that?" Raditz asked Nappa, pointing to another box from which some truly glorious smell was rising. Nappa picked up the box and opened it. There was some sort of meat covered in a dark red sauce.

"General Tso's chicken," Dr. Brief said from across the room.

"General who?" Nappa picked up one piece of chicken and popped it in his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully. It was spicy. Very spicy. He quickly swallowed. "What the hell are you trying to do, kill us?"

Bulma laughed. "Too hot for you?"

"I'd like to see _you_ eat it," Nappa snarled.

"I would, but I'm busy with brain surgery, if you hadn't noticed." Bulma smiled at them and turned back to the screen to see what she was doing.

Nappa grumbled and tried another piece of chicken. Now that he knew what to expect, it wasn't nearly so unpleasant. Actually, it was really good. He grabbed a handful of the chicken and shoved it in his mouth.

Raditz snatched the box from him and started eating the chicken. He had the same reaction as Nappa at first, but once he was accustomed to the amount of flavor the chicken packed, he was eating it full-speed. While he worked on that, Nappa started opening the other boxes to examine their contents. The saiyans completely forgot their distrust as they gorged themselves on the food Dr. Brief brought them. It was all delicious, and not nearly filling enough. It only took a few minutes for them to finish it off.

"I think that's the last one," Bulma said as she pulled the probe out of Vegeta's brain. "Why don't you go through and make sure you don't have any gaps in your memory from the time you left for that mission and the time you were knocked out before the experiment."

While Vegeta searched through his memories, Bulma pulled her gloves, cap, and mask off and went to the sink to wash her hands. She splashed cool water on her face and ran her hands through her hair. She was still exhausted. Her sleep hadn't been all that restful and she was stressed from performing neurosurgery in an experimental operation she had no right to be doing. She hoped everything went well because she was tired of probing Vegeta's brain. She wanted him to have his memories restored without any trouble. She dried her hands and face and went back to sit next to the bed.

"I can remember everything," he told her.

She grinned. "Even the parts when you saved me and Mom?"

"Hn."

"Good. We'll just patch up your head and you'll be good to go." She put on another pair of gloves and put the piece of skull back in place, then moved the flap of skin over it and started suturing it up. "This will heal on its own, right?"

"Hn."

Bulma pulled off her gloves and threw them away. She pushed the medical equipment aside when Vegeta sat up on the edge of the bed. "I'm so glad you're back," she cried as she threw her arms around him and held him in a tight embrace. "You promised you'd return."

Raditz and Nappa looked up when they heard that. They were shocked that Vegeta would make such a promise, especially when he was still practically a cub. Even more surprising was Vegeta's reaction to her affectionate attack, a clear and drastic change from what he would have done before the operation. Either Vegeta was screwing with them, or he had all his memories back and was acting as if the intermittent years had never happened.

Vegeta hesitantly put his arms around Bulma and buried his face in her neck to smell her scent. It was different than he remembered, but it was recognizable. Well, he'd known it would change as she grew into adulthood. "If it weren't for your scent I probably wouldn't recognize you, girl."

"Why's that?"

"You don't have your baby fat anymore."

Bulma pulled away from him and scowled. "Are you saying I was fat? Honestly, Vegeta, I can't believe you! You're such a jerk!"

The saiyan prince laughed as he stood up. He knew that would get a rise out of her. Even as a girl she had a vain streak. It was probably worse now that she was grown up. He guessed correctly. When Bulma realized he was teasing her, she started laughing with him. She couldn't deny it, she was a little pudgy when he first knew her. She looked a lot different now. She wasn't only taller, but she had the body of a woman. It probably would be hard to recognize her. Hell, if it weren't for his unique hairstyle, she doubted she ever would have known who he was. They'd both changed.

"I missed you, Veggie." She playfully punched his arm when she saw him grimace at the nickname he never liked. "Come on, let's go home."

_A/N: And just like that his memories are back! There's perks to knowing the smartest people in the world. I'm not done writing this story yet, but I will be soon. So, I want to know what you want me to write. There's a poll on the top of my profile so you can vote to tell me what you want to see written next. And wow, over 2K hits on my stories two days ago. That's an all-time high. Thanks guys! And thank you for all the reviews. :)_

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	45. Old Feelings Die Hard

Old Feelings Die Hard

He looked out the window and frowned. Things were not going according to his plan. What was he supposed to do now? His tail lashed behind him, a sign to anyone close by to stay away. He needed space. He needed to kill someone. His hands clenched into fists so tight he drew blood from his palms. This wasn't right! He had the perfect plan, and it was all going to ruin. How could he possibly get it back on track? He hadn't paid much attention when the first one left, but when the other two followed, he started to become concerned. Now they were all gone to the one place they should never have gone without his direct orders to do so.

Perhaps they were there for no reason related to his plan. Perhaps they went on their own accord for some entirely different goal. After all, the idiots didn't know the planet's coordinates and the prince didn't remember the planet at all. He thought he was in a coma for a year. No, they had definitely gone there for some reason all their own. He just had no idea what it was, and that was what angered him the most. He didn't like for his soldiers to leave his service and travel to a distant planet with their own purposes in mind. They weren't to go anywhere he didn't command them to go. Yet the idiot saiyans had done just that. They were on planet 1076XR. The weakest saiyan, the third-class monkey was dead. He received that information when his technicians managed to hack into the saiyans' scouter connections. Raditz was dead. Nappa and Vegeta followed him to the miserable planet where he died, presumably to get revenge. Fools.

His lips curled in a smirk. Let them exact their revenge. He would let their disobedience slip this one time, so long as they followed his orders to purge the planet and destroy it once they were done playing around. Yes, that would have to do. It wasn't as if they would know any better. Vegeta couldn't remember being there and Nappa was probably too stupid to realize it was the same planet Vegeta was stranded on as a boy. His mood improved greatly when he thought of this.

"Zarbon!"

"Yes, Lord Frieza?" Zarbon bowed, still keeping a safe distance from his master.

"Have orders sent to Vegeta that he is to purge the planet he is on. I also want the complete transmission between Raditz and the others before he died."

"As you wish, my lord." Zarbon straightened and strode out of the throne room to deliver Frieza's orders to the technicians.

…

Vegeta stretched out and sighed. His arms and legs spread to take up as much of the bed as he could. He hadn't ever paid much attention to how large the bed was in his guestroom when he was a boy. Any bed would have seemed large enough for him, but when he hit his growth spurt he was made painfully aware of how small his cot was in his quarters on Frieza's ship. The pallets he slept on at the base planets weren't much better. Not only were they small, but they were horribly uncomfortable. Hard, lumpy, scratchy. It was amazing he was ever able to sleep in them, but he was usually so exhausted by the time he returned to his quarters to rest that he hardly noticed the way the lumps jabbed into his body and the way the flat cot failed to support the curve of his spine. He slept well that night. He knew he was in a safe territory, he was with his pack, his comrades were there – all alive, and his belly was full of Mrs. Brief's cooking. He couldn't ask for more, yet the Briefs had given him his old guestroom with all the toiletries he could ever need already stocked in the bathroom. It was easy to slip into the life of decadent luxury after so many years of hardship.

He sat up in bed and threw the covers – the soft, non-scratchy covers – off. He could smell breakfast cooking already despite the fact that the sun wasn't up yet. He checked the clock on his nightstand and saw that it was 5:45AM. Later than his usual time, but he felt perfectly energized and ready to get the day started. He stood up and stretched again, his tail uncoiling from his waist and twisting through the air as it also stretched. He walked over to the desk where his bodysuit was laid out over the back of the chair and pulled it on. He stepped into his boots and put his gloves on. It was long past time for his early morning training. He left his room and went downstairs to the indoor garden to begin his training.

He went into the garden and breathed in the scent of animals, flowers, and water. It was a pleasant smell, not entirely wild, but fresh nonetheless. He sat down in the grass and stretched before starting his usual routine of anaerobic exercises without ki. He rolled onto his stomach and started his push-ups, first with two hands, then a few sets of one-handed push-ups. Eventually he pushed himself into a handstand and did several sets of two-handed push-ups, then a few sets one-handed. He was not at all surprised when Dr. Brief came into the garden a few minutes after 6:00 and started riding his bicycle around the garden while humming to himself. The only thing that had changed was that he now had the constant passenger Scratch on his shoulder.

"Good morning, Vegeta," Dr. Brief said as he rode by.

"Hn."

Dr. Brief chuckled as he rode on. Nothing had changed about that boy that he could tell. He still had an obsession with training and he still wasn't much of a conversationalist. He didn't openly stare, but he watched Vegeta exercise as he rode around the garden. He was impressed with his strength and balance as he finished his one-handed handstand push-ups. He flipped to his feet and started lunges back and forth across the length of the garden. Dr. Brief was careful to give him space as he rode around, not wanting to throw off his routine. He didn't mind going around the saiyan.

When Vegeta finished his lunges, he sat on the ground again and started doing sit-ups, then crunches, then bicycles. When he finished those, he jumped to his feet and started a series of punches, alternating between straight punches, hooks, and uppercuts. He was still doing punches when he started calf raises. He didn't waste time, instead choosing to do multiple exercises at once when possible to get as much out of his workout time as possible. Even his tail seemed to be exercising as it lashed through the air, twitched, flicked around, curled around his waist, straightened, and twisted through the air. Even as it moved around Vegeta managed to keep his balance as he pushed himself to the balls of his feet and down again.

Vegeta finished his anaerobic exercises an hour later. It was still too early for breakfast, but close enough that he didn't want to meditate or start a kata, so he decided he would run around the perimeter of the garden until it was breakfast time. He started with an easy jog, then sped up until he was running. He maintained the same speed, much faster than any human could run even when sprinting, for several minutes before he started to sprint. Soon he was going too fast for Dr. Brief to be able to see. The only way he knew the saiyan was still in the room was the soft thumping of his feet on the grass and the wind moving around the room.

Dr. Brief stopped trying to spot him and instead turned to his own thoughts. He was having trouble figuring out how to make the fuel consumption on a new air bus more efficient. It was still much more efficient than any other air bus on the market, but he wanted it to be even better. He knew there was a way, he just hadn't found it yet. He hummed to himself as he rode around the garden, careful to stay a safe distance away from the walls where Vegeta could be at any moment. He chuckled when he thought about how Vegeta was like an electron, somewhere around the room, but it was anyone's guess where he was at any given time.

It was after 8:00 when Mrs. Brief opened the door to the garden. Vegeta rushed past her, but she never saw him. She squealed when her dress flew up in the wind that nearly blew her off her feet. She stumbled back a couple steps before catching herself. "Oh my, what was that?"

"Are you alright, dear?" Dr. Brief called from inside the garden.

"I'm fine, honey. Is Vegeta in there with you? He didn't answer when I knocked on his door." Mrs. Brief cautiously approached the door again. There was another gust of wind. This time she held onto the door frame for support.

"Yes, he's in here. Was there something you needed?"

"I just wanted to let him know breakfast is almost ready. I didn't know if I should disturb the others so I thought I would leave it up to him to get them up."

Vegeta jumped into the air and kicked off the wall, back-flipped, and landed in front of the doors. Mrs. Brief nearly fell over again when he seemed to appear out of thin air. He nodded his greeting to her and stalked past her. "I'll get them up."

"Thank you, dear. Would you mind making sure Bulma comes down as well? She's been sleeping in through breakfast a lot lately. You know that's not good for her."

"Hn." Vegeta disappeared down the hall. She heard him going upstairs a minute later.

Mrs. Brief grinned and clasped her hands together. "Oh, isn't it wonderful to have him back, dear?"

Dr. Brief smiled as he dismounted his bicycle and walked to the door where his wife was waiting for him. He kissed her cheek and linked arms with her as they walked toward the kitchen. "Yes, dear, wonderful. The only thing that's changed about him is his height. He's the same as he always was."

"I think it's commendable the way he works so hard." Mrs. Brief giggled and pushed the kitchen door open. "He's such a fine young man."

Dr. Brief continued down the hall to the front door to get the morning newspaper off the front step. He picked it up and went to the kitchen to sit down at the table. He unfolded his paper and the first thing he saw was a picture of Vegeta and the big saiyan. He skimmed through the article, already knowing what to expect. He knew that Vegeta hadn't made a great impression on Earth when he first arrived, but he wasn't going to hold it against him. His daughter would use the dragon balls to bring everyone back to life in a year. It was sad that they were killed, and he certainly didn't approve of it, but now that he knew more about Vegeta's background, he was less inclined to condemn him for his behavior. It would take time to teach him a better way to live, but he and his family were willing to help him. The main thing he was concerned about was people recognizing Vegeta when he left the compound. He flipped to the next page and started reading the news he hadn't already heard.

A few minutes later, the kitchen door opened and Raditz walked in, rubbing the grains of sleep from his eyes. Next came Nappa, who was grumbling about wanting more sleep, followed by Vegeta who was carrying Bulma over his shoulder. She was still wearing her pajamas and she was beating her fists against his back and screeching about wanting to go back to bed. The elder Briefs turned when they heard the commotion and laughed at the sight of their grown daughter being treated like a child. Vegeta dropped her in her chair and sat down next to her in his old seat. Nappa and Raditz looked around the kitchen uncomfortably. They were still uncertain about making themselves feel at home in the compound.

Mrs. Brief carried a platter over and set it on the table. She smiled at the two tall saiyans. "Well what are you waiting for? Come sit down and have some breakfast! Friends of Vegeta are friends of the Briefs." She crossed the kitchen to grab another platter of food.

Bulma glanced over her should at Nappa and Raditz and giggled when she saw their unease. "Don't tell me you're afraid of my mother."

"No!" Raditz blushed. "We're not _afraid_."

Nappa sneered at her and took one of the empty seats at the table. He gestured to Raditz to sit down as well. Vegeta snorted and slapped their hands away when they reached for food. He knew they didn't have to wait for Mrs. Brief to be seated, but he wanted to respect her by waiting. She brought a large bowl of cut up fruit and sat down.

"Oh, Vegeta, I forgot to bring drinks. What would you like?" Mrs. Brief asked.

"Orange juice."

Mrs. Brief stood up and went to the refrigerator to get the orange juice out. She brought it back to the table and poured a glass for Vegeta. She set the pitcher on the table in case he needed more later. She sat down again and started serving food onto everyone's plates.

Bulma leaned over to Vegeta to whisper, "I think she forgot about Raditz and the other guy. What's his name, anyway?"

Vegeta snickered when he realized they hadn't been given anything to drink. Apparently Mrs. Brief thought they were perfectly capable of pouring their own drinks. "The bald one is Nappa. He's an elite saiyan warrior. Still much weaker than me."

"Of course, you are the prince, after all," Bulma teased as she playfully punched his shoulder. "You never told us before you were a prince."

He shrugged. "If I had told you that, then you'd have wanted to know what nation I was a prince of. I didn't want you snooping in my past. Besides, I'm only a prince over those idiots."

"What do you mean?"

Vegeta snarled. "Stop asking questions, girl." He started eating, thereby cutting off their conversation before Bulma could ask anything else or make a comment about how he never told her anything about himself. Well, she could make the comment, but he at least wouldn't be expected to respond. They knew he never talked while he was eating.

"I'm not a girl anymore," she grumbled. "I'm a grown woman."

The rest of the meal passed in relative peace. The saiyans were too busy eating to say anything, Dr. Brief was preoccupied reading his paper, and Mrs. Brief and Bulma only talked a little from time to time. Bulma watched the saiyans eating and noticed they all ate voraciously. She knew now why Vegeta and Goku had such huge appetites. They were aliens with a crazy fast metabolism. She picked at her food, more interested in them than her meal. Raditz ate faster than the other two and kept his arms around his plate as if blocking wandering hands. Nappa ate faster than Vegeta, but he was sloppier, though not as bad as Goku. He ate as much with his hands as with his utensils. And then there was Vegeta, who somehow managed to eat an incredible amount of food without spilling or slopping. Always neat and tidy so if he wasn't watched, it was hard to even notice how much food he packed away. Now that she knew he was a prince, she thought it was probably his royal upbringing that made him so clean.

The saiyans finally finished long after the Briefs had had their fill. Bulma took that as her opportunity to strike up another conversation with Vegeta before he could get away. "So what did you do this morning?" she asked.

"Trained." He pushed his chair back from the table and stood up.

Bulma frowned. "Vegeta! You shouldn't be training! Give yourself time to heal from the surgery."

"I'm already healed," he said as he crossed the room to leave.

Bulma got up and chased after him. "Oh really? Why don't you let me see to make sure?"

Vegeta stopped at the door and spun around on his heel. Bulma bumped into his chest. "There's no need. I know when I'm healed."

"I won't leave you alone until I know for sure." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

He knew better than to call her bluff. She was relentless when she wanted something from him. She would have no qualms about following him around all day pestering him just to make sure he was healed. He sighed. "So check. You won't find anything."

"We'll see about that." Bulma reached up and pushed his hair aside where the incision was made. She felt around on his scalp, but there was nothing to feel. Nothing but a tiny scar where his skin had been cut. Her eyes widened. She knew he was a quick healer, but that was ridiculous.

"Find anything?" he asked patronizingly.

She scowled. "No."

"That's what I thought." He turned around and pushed the door open.

Bulma grabbed his arm. "Wait! Where are you going?"

Vegeta kept walking, dragging her along with him. "To train."

"But you spent all morning training already! Don't you want to do something else?"

He finally pulled his arm free from her grip. "We are not children anymore. I am not going to spend the day playing ridiculous games with you or wasting time watching your stupid human entertainment programs. Don't expect me to stay here on this mudball with you, girl. I am going to stay long enough to use the dragon balls to make a wish and then I'm leaving."

"The dragon balls?" Bulma ran after him when he disappeared around a corner. "You're going to be here a long time then."

He glanced over his shoulder at her. "And why is that?"

"We used them to wish Goku back the day you came. They take a whole year to recharge."

"Recharge? What do you mean recharge?"

Bulma shrugged nonchalantly. "It means they're inert for a year. During that time they're just stones scattered all over the planet. You can't find them, and even if you could, you wouldn't be able to use them."

He grabbed her shoulders and snarled at her. "That's not possible!"

"Sorry, but it's how they work. Besides, who says you get to make a wish? I intend to use them to revive everyone you and Nappa killed, in particular my fiancé." She pushed him away and turned around to stalk away dramatically, but he caught her arm and whirled her around to face him again.

"You would waste a wish on those weaklings?"

"Like it or not, Vegeta, you can't always get your way."

"I could say the same to you. I _need_ to use the dragon balls."

"For what? What could you possibly need, oh prince?" She wrenched her arm out of his grasp and shoved past him to go to her laboratory.

Hearing the heated debate out in the hall, Nappa and Raditz ran out of the kitchen to see what was going on. The last thing they needed was for Vegeta to lose his cool and blow up half the planet with them on it. They heard Bulma's last comment and groaned. Shoving his royal status in his face in mockery was not the best way to build trust with him. Not that they cared much about the blue-haired woman, but they didn't want him to kill her before he broke his attachment to her. Doing so might end badly for him.

"Prince?" Vegeta spat. How could she betray him like that? She would deny him the dragon balls for her own selfish wish when he needed them to gain enough power to defeat Frieza. He needed to be immortal to ever kill him. "You think that because I'm a prince I have everything I need? You're dead wrong, you stupid girl. I have nothing. I have no kingdom, no people, no throne. I am a _prince_ of absolutely _nothing._ The creature I serve destroyed my planet when I was a boy. He turned me into his fucking pet! Don't tell me I don't need the dragon balls. I _will_ have my wish. Get in my way and I'll kill you."

Without waiting for a reply, Vegeta went upstairs to his guestroom, leaving Bulma behind to contemplate what he told her. She felt like she really shoved her foot in her mouth that time. She had no idea he had lost so much. Sure, she knew he had been abused and all, she even had suspicion that he was a mass murderer, but she had no idea _why_. She figured it would be safer never to make any assumptions about him. "Nice one, Bulma."

"Stupid human," Nappa growled as he passed her on his way to the stairs. Raditz followed him. They wanted to check on their prince to make sure he wasn't going to lose his mind.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," Bulma whispered. She kicked the wall.

Bulma was visibly upset when she opened the front door when someone rang the doorbell. She frowned when she saw a troop of warriors standing on her front step. Goku, Tien, Chiaotzu, and Krillin were all there. She knew why they had come, and it did nothing to lift her spirits. It wasn't a social call. They came because they were afraid the saiyans were going to hurt her and her family. Honestly, she wanted them to go away, but she wouldn't kick her friends out when they were just doing what they thought was best. She would let them in, let them see that the saiyans were not bothering anyone, and show them out the door, bidding them farewell and happy training.

She forced a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Come in, guys. What brings you here?"

"I think you know why we're here, Bulma," Tien said. He surveyed his surroundings as he stepped across the threshold. He could sense three enormous power levels somewhere deeper in the compound.

Bulma closed the door behind them and pushed her hair behind her ears. "Yeah, I know. You're here to make sure the saiyans are staying in line. Really, you have nothing to worry about."

"Where were you yesterday?" Krillin asked. "We stopped by in the morning, but your mom said you and your dad were gone."

The blue-haired scientist snorted. "We do have _jobs_. You know, those things you do to earn _money_? We were at the headquarters building."

Tien frowned. "We went there too. Neither you nor your father were in your offices."

"That's because we were on the medical floor," Bulma retorted.

"The medical floor?" Goku exclaimed. "Why were you there? What did they do to you?"

"Nothing!" Bulma snapped. "They didn't do anything to hurt anyone! We were there to help Vegeta if you must know. I'm not going into any details about it. Patient confidentiality. It's not important to you anyway."

"Bulma, you know I believe in second chances, but you can't let these guys live with you!" Goku insisted. He held Bulma's shoulders as he tried to reason with her. "These guys are dangerous. You know what they did to all those innocent people in East City! How can you tell us to trust them after they did that? And what about Raditz? You remember what he did!"

She slapped his hands off her and shoved past him. "Fine, Goku. Go keep an eye on them if you want, but they're not doing anything wrong. Vegeta told the others not to hurt anyone, so they won't. And he won't hurt anyone because he doesn't want to. I suggest you leave him alone before you _make_ him want to."

"Doesn't _want_ to kill anyone?" Tien hissed. "Then why'd he kill all of East City and all the news crews at the battlefield?"

Bulma rested her hands on her hips and glared at her three-eyed friend. "He was a different person then. I know it's hard to believe, but he's changed a lot the past couple days. He remembers us now and he would never hurt us in a million years."

Tien rolled his three eyes. "Bulma, a person can't change that drastically in two days!"

"He did!" She stomped her foot and grit her teeth. She felt like crying. First Vegeta told her he couldn't stay on Earth and now her friends wouldn't believe her when she told them Vegeta wasn't a bad person. She was so frustrated she could hurt somebody.

Krillin rubbed his head. "Look, we just want to make sure they don't try anything out of line, ok? We won't bother anyone."

Bulma glared at him, causing him to back behind Goku for safety. "Just say it! You don't like them and you're hoping you catch them doing something 'out of line' so you have reason to pick a fight with them. I wouldn't recommend it. They could mop the floor with you guys."

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence," Krillin grumbled.

"I'm telling it like it is. These guys are insanely strong. You should know that from your fight with them the other day. There were like four of you taking on Nappa and you still couldn't beat him. And Goku, you weren't doing too well against Vegeta. Admit it! You're outmatched!"

Goku grinned and rubbed the back of his head. "Aw, he wasn't so tough. He just caught me off guard, that's all. I could defeat him with the techniques King Kai taught me."

"Yeah, right." Bulma shook her head and went upstairs to shower and change. "If you guys get beat up don't come crying to me. I warned you."

Krillin watched her receding back and sighed. Honestly he wasn't thrilled about the idea of taking on the saiyans again. Nearly dying at Nappa's hands once was more than enough. "Hey, maybe she's right. Maybe it was all just a big misunderstanding."

Tien shook his head. "Maybe in your dream world, Krillin."

Goku shrugged and walked to the kitchen. "Well, it doesn't seem like they're doing anything right now. Why don't we grab a snack?"

Krillin smacked his forehead. "Goku, sometimes I don't know what's more important to you. Protecting the world or stuffing your face."

The tailless saiyan laughed as he disappeared into the kitchen to beg for food from Mrs. Brief. Tien, Chiaotzu and Krillin were left standing in the hall with nothing to do. They each sighed and shrugged. Krillin didn't like standing around, so he decided to make a suggestion. "Want to go upstairs and play pool in the recreation room?"

Chiaotzu smiled. "It beats doing nothing. You coming, Tien?"

Tien was again astounded at how laid back his friends could be in the face of danger. There were three incredibly powerful killer aliens in the house and all they wanted to do was eat and play games. He couldn't help cracking a smile. Maybe relaxing a little would be good for all of them. "Sure, why not?"

Vegeta growled and punched the wall. His fist flew through the drywall. He ripped his hand out, bringing with it a cloud of dust. He became even angrier when he saw the damage he caused. Just great. "That girl is so fucking infuriating!" He wished he could hurt her. That might make him feel better, but he knew in the long run he would regret it. If Bulma were anyone else he would have killed her on the spot for mocking him. But as it was, he couldn't kill her. The damn woman was part of his pack. He raked his hand through his mane. "What the hell does she know? She acts like she knows me, but she doesn't know a damn thing!"

Raditz leaned against the wall farthest away from his raging prince and chuckled. He had never seen another person get under Vegeta's skin in quite the same way. He stopped laughing when Nappa elbowed him in the gut as he walked past him to find his own spot of wall to lean against.

"This is why I never wanted to form attachments," Vegeta ranted. "They're nothing but trouble. I want to hurt the bitch, but I can't because then I would feel what? Guilt? It's deplorable! I'm the fucking Prince of all Saiyans! I can do what I want to who I want when I want, damnit!"

He picked up a pillow from the bed and hurled it at the balcony doors. The grass cracked. He felt like ripping his hair out. "She always pissed me off. She is the most annoying, whining, self-centered, distracting brat in the galaxy! How the hell I ever started caring about her I'll never know."

Nappa and Raditz looked at each other and shrugged. There wasn't much they could say that would help. They didn't know any more than Vegeta did about why he cared about the Briefs. They decided between themselves that it would be safer to keep their mouths shut and wait for Vegeta to blow off some steam before they tried talking to him.

"I should have killed her when I had the chance!" Vegeta kicked his bed. It flipped over and crashed to the floor. "Her and her idiot parents and everyone on this disgusting mudball!"

Krillin, Tien, and Chiaotzu felt one of the energy signals down the hall rising and falling erratically, as if he were trying to keep his power in check and failing miserably. It put them on edge, so when they heard the crash in his room they were instantly running out of the rec. room to see what was going on. They threw the door to the guestroom open and stormed inside. There were just the three saiyans inside, and the only victims of the flame-haired saiyan's anger appeared to be the wall, the bed, the balcony door, and a pillow.

Vegeta whirled around when he heard them. "What the hell are you doing here?" he roared.

Raditz and Nappa snapped to attention when they saw the earthling warriors. They looked ready to fight. If it was a fight they wanted, they would be happy to oblige. Maybe they weren't supposed to hurt anyone, but they were sure they could claim self defense and get off the hook. They glanced over at Vegeta. If he wasn't furious before, he was now.

Krillin looked over at Nappa, who smirked at him. He could only imagine what he was thinking about doing. He started trembling, unable to contain his fear."Wha-what are you doing? We heard something crash in here. We came to see what was – what was going on."

"I'm rearranging my room, as you can see," Vegeta said icily. "Get the fuck out so I can finish."

"Y-y-yes, sir," Krillin squeaked. He backed out of the room, pulling Tien and Chiaotzu along with him. As soon as they were through the doorway, he took off down the hall to put as much distance between himself and the saiyans as possible.

Nappa scoffed. "Morons."

Vegeta slammed his door shut and paced back and forth. He stopped in his tracks when he heard his scouter beeping. "Oh, hell no." Vegeta picked up his scouter from his nightstand and put it on. He pushed the button accept the incoming transmission. "This is Vegeta."

"Vegeta, I have direct orders from Frieza that you are to purge and destroy the planet you are on. He is aware of your current location and commands you to return to base 108 as soon as you have completed your mission. Do you copy?"

Vegeta cursed under his breath. So the lizard knew where he was, did he? Then he probably figured he could bring his plan to fruition when he returned to base by restoring his lost memories. His tail unwrapped from his waist and twitched behind him. How was he going to get out of this one? Frieza would know if he followed through with orders or not. "Copy. Do I have a deadline?"

"No deadline set. But I would advise you to finish promptly. Frieza isn't happy with you for leaving without orders."

He snorted. "Whatever. Out." Vegeta pushed the button to cut the transmission. He took his scouter off and glared at it as if blaming it for his poor fortune. He wanted to slam it against the wall and break it, but he might still need it. Grudgingly, he laid it on his nightstand and sat on his bed.

"Who were you talking to?" Nappa asked.

"One of Frieza's techs. We're supposed to kill everyone and destroy this planet and then report back to base 108."

"Kill everyone," Raditz repeated. He looked over at Nappa nervously.

"Everyone," Vegeta affirmed.

"But these people. Vegeta, you've got to break your attachments to them. You can't kill them if you're, you know…" Nappa trailed off, not wanting to finish his thought. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. "We could get them off the planet. Send them somewhere else where they'd be safe. Who cares about the rest of these weaklings?"

Vegeta shook his head. "They do. They would never forgive me. Besides, where would they go? There's not a habitable planet in the vicinity that isn't under Frieza's rule. He would find out about them and kill them anyway. He'd probably kill us too. Maybe something worse."

Raditz sat in the chair at the desk. They were in trouble now. "Do they know I'm alive?"

The others shrugged. "What's it matter if they do or don't?" Vegeta asked.

"I don't know. I was just wondering."

"Hn."

"Don't worry, Vegeta. We'll figure something out," Nappa said. He wasn't sure they actually could, but he didn't think it would help anyone to be pessimistic. As usual, Frieza was breathing down their necks galaxies away. He always knew their whereabouts and now he was trying to see his plan come full circle. He thought he had Vegeta in his grasp now. Unfortunately, it seemed like he did. Vegeta could kill everyone or not, but either way he was a goner.

Vegeta stood up. "In the meantime, we are going to keep training. I don't want you two getting lazy just because we're not on a mission."

"Yes, sir," the others grumbled.

The small saiyan left the room and nearly knocked Bulma over when she walked into him. He rolled his eyes. "You _still_ haven't learn to watch where you're going?"

"Sorry, Veggie," she said distractedly. She pushed past him and went downstairs. He wondered why she was wearing a white lab coat like her father. He shrugged one shoulder and went downstairs to go to the indoor garden to continue his training. There was a lot he needed to think about. The sooner he decided what to do, the better.

_A/N: And they revert to acting exactly like they did as kids. Aw. And what's going to happen with Frieza's orders? Geta's got more problems than he can handle, it seems._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	46. Stay or Leave?

Stay or Leave?

Bulma and Vegeta didn't see each other again until lunch. Vegeta brought Raditz and Nappa along with him to the kitchen to get food. He sat down at the table and started eating what Mrs. Brief had already set out for them. They were still eating nearly half an hour later when Bulma came into the kitchen. Her formerly white lab coat was now spotted with smears of black grease, as were her face and hands. She went to the sink to wash her hands before sitting at the table next to Vegeta. She stole two pieces of bread from his plate and made a sandwich with the lunchmeat on the table. She didn't bat an eye when he growled at her for taking his food. Nappa and Raditz were astonished that she would do something so bold.

Vegeta scooted his plate farther away from Bulma without missing a beat in his eating. He would let her keep those slices of bread, but that was all she was getting from him. He spooned the last of the fruit jell-o onto his plate for the sole purpose of keeping her from having any. Bulma rolled her eyes when she saw what he did. She ate her sandwich in silence, but she grabbed the last of the celery and carrots when she noticed Vegeta considering them. She stuck her tongue out at him, still coated in chewed-up food. His nose wrinkled in disgust before he turned his attention back to his plate of food.

Mrs. Brief sat down at the table and poured herself and Vegeta some iced tea. She handed his glass to him and sipped her own tea. "How is your work coming along, dear?"

"Not the greatest," Bulma admitted. "I think something's wrong with the carburetor."

"Well, I'm sure you'll figure it out, sweetie."

"Yeah, after I've taken the whole engine apart _again_." Bulma sighed and finished her sandwich. She stole a glance at Vegeta. He was finally finishing his meal. The other two saiyans were still pigging out. She figured now would be as good a time as any. She took a deep breath. "Vegeta, I wanted to tell you I'm sorry about what I said earlier."

"Hn." Vegeta drank his tea in three gulps and set the glass down. He wasn't interested in her apology. What he wanted was for her to forfeit her wish so he could make his own.

As if reading his thoughts, she continued, "But I can't let you make a wish with the dragon balls when they're charged. You see, when someone dies you have to wish them back within a year of their death or they're gone for good. I can't let Yamcha stay dead, Vegeta. I love him. We—we were going to be married. Actually, we were getting married when Raditz first came. He interrupted our wedding and we never finished the ceremony. We can finally get married when he comes back to life."

At first, Vegeta was unmoved by her reasoning. There was no reason for him to care about their destroyed relationship. He didn't like Yamcha. He was an arrogant, cocky weakling with a laughable power level who looked like a pretty boy more concerned with attracting the female kind than training. Vegeta liked him even less now that he knew Bulma intended to mate with him. He wasn't worthy of her. Bulma was the only woman on the planet with any brains. Why would she want an idiot like that scar-faced fool? Still, he didn't want her to be unhappy. He sighed heavily when he smelled her tears, though they remained unshed. If the idiot made her happy, he would have to be revived. Vegeta wouldn't do anything to cause her pain. Even if it meant giving up his only chance to gain immortality so he could defeat Frieza. His hands clenched into fists. He hated how he always gave in to her in the end. He could argue and fight and try his damnedest not to care, but he did care. He cared more than he could fully understand.

"Stop your crying, girl," he said. He rapped his fingers on the table and wondered how he should tell her he would let her have her wish without competition. He didn't want to appear weak, to her or his comrades. "You can make your stupid wish, but that means that we have no further reason to stay on this planet."

"What do you mean you don't have any reason to stay?" she yelled. "What about us?"

"What about you?" He shook his head and stood up, then leaned over her so his mouth was close to her ear. "You want me to stay here and lead Frieza to your front door? He'll hunt me down, girl. He'll kill me and anyone I give a shit about."

A shiver ran down Bulma's spine. She still didn't know who Frieza was, but if Vegeta said he would kill him, she had no doubt that he would. Vegeta wouldn't admit someone _could_ kill him unless he really could. Something told her there was more to the story, something he wasn't telling her. Was he actually afraid of this Frieza guy? He had to be the one he wanted to kill, but was he still not strong enough? She swallowed hard. "I don't care if he comes here, Veggie, I won't let you leave again."

Vegeta straightened. "That is not your decision to make." He walked out of the kitchen unaccompanied. He wanted to be alone and made sure Nappa and Raditz knew it when he closed the mental links he had with them. He knew they would feel the disconnection and get the message. He went to the indoor garden and leaped into the tree branches, finding a large, solid bough and sat down to try and meditate, but his thoughts and feelings were too distracting.

He almost laughed at the irony when he realized he was having the same argument with himself that he had 18 years earlier. His feelings were at war with his rationalizations. He had to leave the planet to protect the Briefs, but he wanted to stay with them. They were his pack, and knowing he had already left them once before made him feel unbearable guilt even though he knew he did it to keep them safe. Leaving them again would be overwhelmingly painful. But what did his pain matter if it meant they lived? Then again, how could he be sure they would stay alive if he left? Frieza would no doubt kill them _when_ he found out the planet was not purged and destroyed as he commanded. There was no way to win.

Eventually Vegeta found himself trying to come up with a way to break free of his attachment to the Briefs. Then he could kill them without remorse, destroy the mudball planet, and return to Frieza at base 108 as he was ordered to. He would go on surviving his beatings and humiliation, growing stronger with each battle and near-death experience, and sometime in the distant future perhaps, he would be strong enough to defeat Frieza and avenge his fallen race.

Such thoughts didn't last long. Vegeta honestly didn't want to stop caring about the Briefs. They were the only people in the whole universe aside from Raditz and Nappa that gave a damn about him. Maybe it was a lingering fear of being alone that was bothering him, but he wanted very much to have as many people around him as he could get who didn't want to see him killed. If the Briefs were willingly accepting him into their family despite his leaving them for nearly two decades, why should he reject them? They were his pack. They had been when he was a boy and they still were. Time changed nothing between them. He knew it would be safer to forget about them and move on with life, but it wasn't that simple.

He groaned and held his face in his hands. What was he supposed to do?

Several days went by with Vegeta mostly keeping to himself. The Briefs only saw him at meals or the indoor garden if they happened to be in there. Nappa and Raditz didn't see him much more than that. They occasionally sparred with him outdoors, but most of the time he was inside training in the garden while they trained on their own in the yard. The garden wasn't large enough for three full-grown saiyans to train together without constantly getting in each other's way.

Vegeta didn't mind the solitude. At first he was uneasy when he was away from everyone else for an extended time – that is, longer than half an hour – but eventually he got used to it. He could still feel Nappa and Raditz in the back of his mind and the Briefs were always roaming around the compound. He ran into them often enough to know they were there even when he couldn't see them. Being alone gave him time to think things over more thoroughly. Without the conflicting input from his comrades and his pack, he was able to more objectively analyze his situation.

He had two basic options: Leave Earth or stay on Earth. Either way, the destruction of the planet was ensured. If he left, he would either have to destroy the planet or Frieza would come do it himself (or send someone else to do it for him). If he stayed on Earth for too long, Frieza would come after him and destroy the planet. There was no way to win. By returning to Earth, he had guaranteed its demise, as well as the death of his pack.

The guilt was gnawing at his mind. Every time he saw one of the Briefs he would feel a sense of comfort in their presence, but it was soon banished by darker thoughts of their deaths. In his mind's eye he would see Bulma sitting at the table eating an apple, and the next he thought he saw her as a decomposing corpse. He would look at her again, and she would be back to normal. It was maddening to be slipping between the present and the probable future. It wasn't only Bulma who he imagined dead. He would be watching Mrs. Brief preparing lunch when all of a sudden he thought he saw her drop to the floor as a beam of ki shot through her heart. He would turn to see what happened, and she would be bending over to pull a pan out of the cupboard. When he wasn't looking directly at Dr. Brief, he thought the cigarette constantly hanging out of his mouth had turned into a slimy worm crawling out of his mouth as maggots ate his dead body from the inside out.

They were as good as dead. Thanks to him, their days were numbered. It was up to him to decide who killed them. Him, Frieza, or one of Frieza's minions. Maybe it would be the Ginyu Force, or maybe some lowly squadron of soldiers from a nearby base planet. Did it really matter who killed them? They were still going to end up dead prematurely. And it was his fault.

He even considered killing himself to save them. If he died, Frieza would have no reason to want them dead, right? He soon dismissed that thought. Frieza would either want to collect his dead body to be sure he really was dead, then blow up the planet, or he would come to kill the one responsible for killing him, not believing he committed suicide, and then blow up the planet. So what could he do?

Even if he had the time to wait for the dragon balls to recharge, he had already decided he wasn't going to use them to wish for immortality. Let Bulma have her wish to bring back all the humans he and Nappa killed, including her idiot fiancé. He wouldn't go back on that decision unless there really were no other way to keep them alive. Maybe Bulma would be unhappy with him for making it impossible to ever revive the scar-faced weakling, maybe she would never forgive him, but at least she would be alive. Perhaps, in time, she would see that he did it for her sake and she would forgive him. He hoped it didn't come to that. He didn't want to betray her.

It irritated him how the weakling warriors, led by their brave hero Kakarrot, would come by every day to check up on Bulma. What a joke. They were there to make sure he and his comrades weren't killing people. He resented their concern. He would never do anything to purposely harm any of the Briefs and he wasn't about to let Nappa or Raditz harm them either. There was no reason to be worried about his presence at Capsule Corporation. Another feeling accompanying his resentment, one he was loath to admit, was jealousy. Who were they to protect the Briefs? They weren't family. Technically, he wasn't either, not by blood relation, but he was their pack mate and it was his duty to protect them. It wasn't anyone's job to protect them _from_ him. It upset him that the Briefs would have ever relied on that hodgepodge group of fighters to defend them from anyone. He should have been there to do it. He should have been with them!

This, more than anything, was the reason he was leaning more toward the option of staying on Earth despite the risks. He could stay and defend them to his dying breath. It might do no good, but at least he would die trying. This was where he refused to bend. He would not obey Frieza's orders to destroy the planet. He could not do it. He was not about to abandon them again, leaving them to their own devices to save themselves from whatever foes may come their way. As their pack mate, it was his duty to stay with them and do everything in his power to keep them safe. If it meant dying, so be it. At least he would die knowing he tried. What more could he do?

Well, he could become immortal and defeat Frieza without him or any of his men ever coming to Earth. It would be risky, and it would require leaving the planet, but there was a way. He could go to Namek, find the dragon balls there, summon the dragon, and wish for immortality. Then he would come back to Earth and wait for Frieza to come. Eventually the lizard would arrive, and when he did, Vegeta would tear him apart, breaking him down inch by inch as he had been broken down through the years.

Vegeta sighed and shook his head. "It's no use. I don't know where Frieza is. He could intercept me, follow me, or come here while I'm on Namek."

The same ideas had been running through his mind for days. He was getting tired of them. He felt like a hamster in a wheel. He needed some fresh, new ideas that might prove more helpful in his decision. He still didn't want to talk to anyone about it. They would each try swaying him to their own opinion regardless of cost.

From his seat on a branch in the indoor garden, he saw the doors open and Bulma come in holding something at her side. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore his other senses that were alerting him to her presence. Thinking about her would do nothing to help him stay objective. Everything about her made him want to stay on Earth. She wasn't the helpless little girl he remembered, but she was still pitifully weak. If even the lowest-ranking soldier in Frieza's army came to Earth, she would have no chance against him.

"Vegeta? Are you in here somewhere?"

He groaned. What could she possibly want to bother him with now? He considered not answering, but he was tired of avoiding her. He slid off the branch and silently landed on his feet. He saw her jump when she caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. "What do you want, Girl?"

She put her hands on her hips. "First, I want you to stop calling me 'girl.' I'm not a girl."

"Fine, Woman." Vegeta smirked when she became even more flustered.

She held up her hand to calm herself. "Whatever. I wanted to give you these." She held out a small bag filled with capsules. "They're clothes for you, Nappa, and Raditz. Me and Mom went shopping for you today."

His eyebrow raised as he looked in the bag. That was a lot of capsules, which meant a lot of clothes. Even for three people that was way too much. He dropped the bag on the ground and climbed up the tree to his branch.

"Aren't you going to thank me?" she spat.

"For what?"

"For buying you some clothes so you don't have to wear that armor all the time!"

He snorted and shook his head. "It was a waste of time, Woman. We might not even be around long enough to wear it all, even if we wanted to."

"Might?" she whispered, more to herself. If he said they _might_ not be around, that meant they _might_ be around. It was still up in the air. He hadn't decided yet. She felt hope swelling in her chest, making her want to scream with joy. Before, he sounded pretty decided on leaving, but now he wasn't so sure. That was a good sign. She giggled and ran out of the indoor garden, forgetting the fact that he never thanked her and in a way even insulted her efforts.

Bulma ran to the kitchen where her mother was preparing dinner. "Mom! Mom, we still have a chance to convince Vegeta to stay. We have to think of something fast." She leaned forward with her hands on her knees and panted after spitting out the good news.

Mrs. Brief never paused in her cooking, but when she stopped humming, Bulma knew she was thinking of ways to keep Vegeta on Earth. She grinned and sat down at the kitchen table to brainstorm. Probably the best way to get him to stay would be to show him how much they needed him. But how was she supposed to do that? Wasn't it already obvious? She shrugged. She would have to make it even more obvious, somehow.

"We could sabotage his spaceship thingy," Bulma thought aloud.

"Oh, don't do that, dear," Mrs. Brief said. "If he doesn't notice he could get hurt."

Bulma frowned and propped her elbow on the table with her chin in her hand. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Then again, if he's hurt he can't go, right?"

"Now, dear, don't even think of hurting him!"

"As if anything could hurt him." Bulma rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. She ran her hands through her hair as she imagined different ways to force Vegeta to stay longer. All of them, unfortunately, involved hurting him. What other way was there? Vegeta was hard-headed enough to do anything once he set his mind to it. If he decided to leave, what could stop him? Only some serious injury that laid him up in bed. It was tougher than she thought to get him to stay on Earth.

Raditz was walking past the kitchen from outside to go wash up before dinner when he heard the women talking. He paused to listen when he heard them mention Vegeta. He frowned when he heard the smart one considering hurting Vegeta in order to get him to stay. Was she really that desperate? He didn't doubt she would resort to such a method. After all, she kept him in a coma for a year. She probably had some means to keep Vegeta against his will. He hurried upstairs to shower. He needed to talk to Nappa as soon as possible, preferably before dinner. The women might try to spring something on the prince while they were eating.

When Raditz left his guestroom after showering, he bumped into Nappa in the hall. "Nappa! I need to talk to you." He grabbed his elbow and pulled him into his room and closed the door behind them.

Nappa yanked his arm free. "What do you want? This better be important."

"It is." Raditz crossed the room and closed the balcony doors he'd left open to let cool air into his room. He was afraid people might be all around eavesdropping. "It's about Vegeta."

"It's always about Vegeta," Nappa muttered as he walked over to the desk to sit on it.

"Yeah, well, I overheard the females talking a few minutes ago. They said Vegeta is possibly considering staying here instead of leaving. They're going to try to convince him to stay, and it seems they might have a chance at getting what they want." Raditz sighed and ran his hands through his hair until they got tangled in it. He winced and pulled them free.

Nappa huffed. "What could they possibly do to convince him to stay here?"

Raditz shrugged. "I don't know. The one with blue hair was considering hurting him somehow so he _couldn't_ leave."

"As if she could."

"Don't underestimate her. I might be a lot weaker than Vegeta, but she managed to keep me in a coma for a year. She might have something potent enough to keep Vegeta from being able to leave if he decides to." Raditz sat down on the edge of the bed, earning a protesting creak as the springs absorbed his weight.

Nappa stroked his mustache with his thumb. "I suppose it's better to be cautious with these people. They do have pretty good brains."

Raditz grunted. He didn't think there was a way to stop the women from trying to push Vegeta to stay, but there had to be something they could do to push him to leave. He didn't want to stay on Earth like a sitting duck, waiting for Frieza to come and kill them all for disobeying his orders. "There's got to be a way to make him see that staying is a bad idea."

"It's simple," Nappa said, standing up. "Whatever they say or do, we'll counter. He'll come around."

"You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. I know Vegeta better than anyone. He'll see reason." Nappa walked to the door and let himself out, leaving Raditz to ponder what he said.

"But we'll be eating," he grumbled to his empty room.

At dinner, Vegeta was the last one to come to the table. Mrs. Brief already had the food set out, Dr. Brief had finished his evening paper, and Bulma and the saiyans were waiting anxiously for his arrival. He sat in his chair and started eating without so much as a greeting to anyone, which had not been unusual for him over the past few days. When he shoveled his first bite of food in his mouth, Bulma knew it was time to get started. He didn't ever bother talking when eating, so she figured he would have to sit and listen as long as he was eating.

"So, Vegeta," she said sweetly, "I saw on the news today that your space pods were taken by the government. No one knows where they're being held."

Vegeta grunted, but he didn't stop eating. Taking that as her cue to continue, Bulma said, "I remember you were a fast learner when it came to mechanical things. I was wondering if maybe you could help me a little in the lab? There's this stupid engine I can't get to run right no matter what I do."

This time there was no response. Probably he wasn't too interested in helping her with that, but at least she was able to get a little flattery in. Stroking his ego was usually a sure-fire way to get him to comply with her requests. She decided not to push it too hard or he would realize what she was up to. She started eating slowly, keeping an eye on him to see if he was showing any signs of considering what she said. She was only rewarded with the same stoic mask he always wore. It was amazing how he could look even blanker than he did as a child. She had thought _that_ was an emotionless expression.

Mrs. Brief spooned more scalloped potatoes onto Vegeta's plate. "I hope you like these, dear, it's a new recipe. I actually have a lot of new recipes I'd like to try. I think you'd enjoy them."

The saiyan prince answered by finishing off the potatoes and silently asking for more with his eyes. She obliged him and he quickly ate the potatoes she gave him. She kept a steady supply of them on his plate throughout the meal. He didn't say anything about it or even look over at her again, but that could only be expected.

Bulma sipped her water when she felt too full to eat more. "Oh, I wanted to ask you something else, Vegeta. I just remembered. I have to go into the bad part of the city to pick something up tomorrow. Would you mind coming with me?"

Dr. Brief finished his meal, stood up and stretched, and walked past Vegeta on his way out of the kitchen. "I suppose I'll see you in the morning, son." He patted his back as he went by.

Vegeta ate the rest of the food on his plate and shoved it away, indicating he was done eating. He sat still for a moment before saying, "We have remotes to get our pods back. I do not lower myself to the job of a mechanic. You do not need me to accompany you anywhere. You're strong enough to defend yourself against any weakling humans." He stood up and left the kitchen to return to the indoor garden where he spent the majority of his time.

Nappa and Raditz looked at each other and smirked. They weren't even needed to shoot down everything the woman threw at Vegeta. He did it himself. At least, everything the blue-haired one said. They would still need to be cautious with the blonde ditz. Her cooking was a powerful weapon against their cause. Neither of them knew what to make of the relationship between Dr. Brief and Vegeta. It was quiet, not really shown outwardly, so they didn't know how much influence he might have over their prince. They would have to watch him, too.

Vegeta leaped to his tree branch and sat down. He wasn't stupid. He knew what Bulma was trying to do. Being subtle had never been her strong point. He smirked and shook his head. If he gave in to her now, she would just keep coming up with various things for him to do to help her, and then before he knew it, he would have spent a year on the mudball. No, he definitely couldn't let that happen, not by accident anyway. It had to be his choice. It was nice to know that she wanted him to stay so badly, but he had to do what was best for her, not what she wanted.

He looked up at the braches above. The leaves, like on the trees outside, were dying, turning various shades of orange, yellow, and red. Like the last time he left Earth. He remembered the sound they made as they scratched across the ground in the cool autumn wind. The sound of life, and of death. 'Look how well it turned out the last time I left. Nothing changed for the better. Damn it all! I've got to choose soon. There's no time to stall.'

He knew his feelings were getting in the way of reason, and the problem only worsened with time. How easy it had been to sink into his old life at Capsule Corporation! It was making him soft. He was trying to resist it, but he couldn't. Not when he had hot water for baths, plenty of mouth-watering food, and an aesthetically pleasing training area.

'Get a fucking grip! You're a master tactician. _Surely_ you can come up with some sort of plan that will allow you to stay here _and_ get strong enough to defeat Frieza if he dares come here. There has got to be a way! The issue here is time. The dragon balls take a year to recharge. Then the woman will make her wish and they'll be inert for another whole year. So it'll be two years before I can make my wish for immortality. That gives Frieza more than enough time to get here.' Vegeta rubbed his temples. He could feel a massive migraine coming on. He had done nothing but think and strategize through possible scenarios for the past two weeks. He was tired of it. He needed a break. But the urgency of his dilemma wouldn't allow him to stop thinking about it for more than a few minutes at a time. Maybe it was time to seek input from someone else. They could bounce his ideas around, find the flaws, maybe even build on them. There was one important detail he needed to determine before he could further formulate any plans of action.

The saiyan prince slid off the branch, ignoring the bark digging into his legs, and dropped to the ground. The fallen leaves crunched under his boots as he ran out of the garden. He needed to get his scouter to do a little research. He almost knocked Mrs. Brief over when he rushed past her in the hall, and he had to dig his heels into the thick carpet to keep from colliding with Bulma when she emerged from her laboratory unexpectedly.

"Whoa! Vegeta, look out!" she shouted as he again started running down the hall.

He ignored her and turned to go upstairs. He opened the door to his guestroom and went inside, slamming the door shut behind him with his tail. Putting on his scouter, he pushed the button several times to access the catalogue of planet coordinates stored in its memory. He scrolled through the base planets until he reached 108. He smirked when he saw that it was in a different galaxy, though one not too far from XR. Base 108 was planet 906MI.

'Excellent. This means that one or more of my plans might work after all.' His smirk widened. He had more research to do. With his scouter still on, he hurried out of his room and caught Bulma at the top of the stairs. He threw her over her shoulder without an explanation and went downstairs to her laboratory, ignoring her shrieks of protest.

…

Frieza read through the report displayed on the large computer screen above the control panel where his best technicians were working tirelessly to get him the transmission the saiyans shared before Raditz was killed on 1076XR. He sat patiently, sipping his wine and rapping his fingers on his armrest. He was in no real hurry. He was sure that whatever he learned from the transmission would be well worth the wait.

Most of it had already been decrypted and was displayed on the screen for him. It was largely uninteresting, the majority of it comprised of taunts in battle, the sounds of blows hitting, and static, but there was more to it. Frieza was sure of it. Vegeta may have wanted revenge for Raditz, but he doubted that alone would be enough to drive him to disobey Frieza's command and leave for a distant planet without even bothering to send a report that he was doing so. He wasn't deserting the army, perhaps, but there was something he considered to be worth the risk waiting for him on the little mudball. Frieza intended to find out what it might be.

It was two more hours before the technicians finally managed to get the whole transmission on display for their master. Frieza smirked when he read the last part, said by one of the inhabitants of the planet and probably the one who struck the final blow that killed Raditz. The other warrior the saiyan had been fighting, who had also died in the battle, was going to be wished back to life with the seven dragon balls they had on the planet. Apparently they had the power to grant _any_ wish. He could see why Vegeta rushed to 1076XR. For revenge, yes, but more importantly for a wish. It wasn't hard to imagine what the monkey prince would want, either. He was likely going to wish for enough power to defeat him, or to become a super saiyan if he still believed that silly legend.

Frieza chuckled and finished his wine. "Very good. As usual he is most useful when he doesn't mean to be. Cui, you will do some research on these 'dragon balls.' See if 1076XR is the only planet with them and figure out how to use them. I think I may have just found a way to rule over the universe for eternity."

Cui turned from his station and bowed. "As you command, Lord Frieza."

Frieza grinned as he left the room to retire for the night. It had been a busy day. In the morning, he would hopefully have more information on the dragon balls. Incredible! Balls with the power to grant any wish he so desired! Immortality would be nice. Then no one could ever usurp him. It was too late to stop Vegeta from making his wish for power. If the wish really could grant anything, then he would have to be cautious rather than underestimating Vegeta's strength when they next met. Maybe Vegeta would have the strength to defeat him, but he wouldn't be able to finish the job if he was immortal. It was brilliant. Then, after the little monkey had his rebellion, he would put him in his proper place, restoring his memories of the planet he was ordered to destroy after forcing him to realize he would _never_ be able to break free of his chains. The tyrant cackled as he closed the door to his chambers.

_A/N: Here it is! Possibly to be revised and expanded at a later time... I've just been too busy and distracted the past few days to do much with it even though I wanted to. I've also been stuck on chapter 57 for several days and I'm getting frustrated with it. It just doesn't seem to want to be written. Send me reviews with encouragement and ideas, por favor._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl._


	47. Red Herring

Red Herring

Vegeta finally had a plan. It was brilliant, and now, knowing that Frieza was in another galaxy for an indefinite period of time, he knew he could pull it off. But he needed help from his pack. He entered the code to Bulma's laboratory and carried her in, ignoring her protests and questions until he reached the desk with her computer and set her down on her feet. He pulled off his scouter and handed it to her. "Girl, I need you to upload the coordinate information from my scouter to your computer."

"What? Why?" She set the scouter on the desk and sat down tiredly.

He rolled his eyes impatiently. "Because anything I do on the scouter can be traced by Frieza's technicians. If you put the information in your own system then I can look through it without raising any suspicion because no one will know I'm doing it. Now hurry up!"

"Fine, fine." Bulma opened one of the drawers and pulled out a pocketknife with a screwdriver small enough to remove the plate from the scouter. "I don't really see what the big deal is with this thing."

Vegeta leaned against the desk and crossed his arms over his chest. "Do you want me to stay on this mudball or not?"

Bulma's eyes shot up to him as a grin spread across her face. "You're going to stay?"

"If you shut up and do what I tell you, maybe. I have a plan, but I need to know that it'll work before I make my final decision."

She didn't like taking orders, but if it meant Vegeta would stay then she was willing to set aside her pride for a while and listen to him. If he had a plan, she wanted to hear it. He knew infinitely more about interplanetary travel than she; he would better understand distances, time, speed of travel, and all the logistics involved. He also knew Frieza and how he would react to different things, such as him deciding to stay on Earth instead of returning to his life as a slave. While she was musing these things, she set up a wireless connection between her computer and the scouter and started uploading the information. She was astounded at the sheer amount of information the scouter contained. At the rate it was going, she wasn't sure her computer had enough memory on its hard drive to contain everything in the scouter.

Bulma propped up her feet on the desk and crossed her arms behind her head. "So you mind telling me your scheme?"

Vegeta shrugged one shoulder. "I'll tell you when I find out how long the trip from this planet to Frieza's base planet 108 is."

"How long will that take?"

"Depends on how fast the coordinates upload."

The scientist looked at the progress bar on the screen and frowned slightly. "It might take a pretty long time. It's going fast, but there's a hell of a lot of stuff to upload. We might be here a while."

The tip of Vegeta's tail flicked when he heard that. He didn't want to wait. Now that he had an idea and some hope, he wanted to find out if it was even possible to go through with it. If it wasn't, he would either have to come up with something else fast or give up and leave Earth. "Can't you make it go any faster?"

"Afraid not." Bulma stifled a yawn and stole a glance at the clock. It was getting late, already after 11:00PM, which was well past her usual bedtime.

"Go to bed, Girl." Vegeta pushed away from the desk and started pacing. He felt restless. He hadn't trained much the past few days since his mind wouldn't stop wandering to his problem. Now he was burning with energy and excitement.

"No way." Bulma stood up and stretched. "I'm staying up so if you need my help I'll be here. But I'm definitely going to go make some coffee. Late nights kill me. I'm getting old."

Vegeta snorted. "You would be more helpful when you're fully awake and your brain is properly functioning." He didn't want to admit it, but he was glad that she decided to stay up with him. Solitude had been what he needed, but now he was getting tired of it and wanted to be around his pack more. Anyway, once he found the information he needed, he had a slew of questions to ask her. Maybe having her around was a good idea. It beat having to wait until morning to get his answers.

Bulma started up the stairs. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be back in a few minutes. You want any coffee?"

"No."

"Suit yourself." Having reached the door, Bulma left the laboratory to go to the kitchen to brew some energy.

When she disappeared out the door, Vegeta reached into his bodysuit and pulled out a small remote. He pushed three buttons and returned it to its place against his chest. He could feel his palms sweating and his heart hammering in his chest. He was excited, but nervous. He was no optimist. As much as he wanted things to work out in his favor for a change, he was a pessimist through and through. He expected to find base 108 to be little more than a hop, skip, and a jump away from Earth. Frieza could probably cross the distance in three days' time. Then he would blow up the planet with him and his pack and comrades still on it. Frieza would no doubt find out what he was scheming and come to put an end to it with an iron fist. He went over to the computer to check up on the progress. He groaned when he saw how much longer it was going to take. Four hours! That was entirely too long to wait. He needed to know, and he needed to know _now_ if his plan would work. His fingers were itching to pick up his scouter, cancel the upload, and find out immediately how long it would take to travel from Earth to base 108. Throw caution to the wind, he didn't care! But he did care. It was more than his life on the line. The lives of the remains of his race and his pack depended on him finding a way to weasel out of his catch 22 without botching it up because of impatience or carelessness.

Ten minutes later the door to the laboratory opened again and Bulma came down the stairs holding a steaming mug of coffee in her hand. She went to her computer and sat down. "Anything interesting happen while I was gone?"

"Hn."

Bulma laughed. "And what's that supposed to mean this time?"

"It means you might want to go look in the back yard," Vegeta said right as the ground shook.

Bulma nearly spilled coffee down her shirt when she was rocked by the shaking. She slammed her mug down on the desk and sprang to her feet. "What was that?"

"My space pod."

"Your space pod?" Bulma covered her heart with her hand to calm herself down. She should be used to ground-shaking explosions by now, after growing up at Capsule Corporation, hanging out with superhuman friends, and now housing three saiyans at the compound.

Vegeta grunted and strode over to the computer to see the progress of the upload again. He growled when he saw that the time to completion had gone up since he last checked. His tail twitched and flicked with his agitation.

"Hey, Veggie, relax," Bulma said. She reached out and patted his back. "I don't know what your idea is, but it'll probably work. You're almost as smart as me, after all."

He gave her a withering glare. It only made her smile broaden. "Idiot girl."

She shook her head. "I've told you, I'm not a girl anymore, Veggie."

"I'll stop calling you that when you stop using that childish nickname."

Bulma threw her hands up in surrender. "Ok! Fine, _Vegeta_!"

He smirked and resumed his pacing through the laboratory. His eyes scanned over the various mechanical parts littering the floor and work stations. Most of them had a fine layer of dust coating them, indicating they had been abandoned quite some time ago. There were spots and puddles of oil dripped across the tile from one work station to another, and where there wasn't machinery on the tables, there were tools of all different kinds. The walls were covered in framed awards and blueprints that were taped up for easy reference. He was surprised that the woman would choose to spend so many hours in such a dump. It had a dirty, unpleasant odor and it was generally uninviting. Yet she seemed very much at home amidst the heaps of garbage.

"So why is your space pod here? I thought you were planning on staying." Bulma blew her coffee to cool it before taking a small sip.

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and stopped pacing. "I want you to replicate it."

Bulma spat out her coffee. "You want me to what?" she screeched.

He winced at the volume of her voice. He didn't think he was asking anything too unreasonable. She proved herself to be a technological genius when she was a girl, how could this task possibly be too daunting for her? Besides, it wasn't as if her father couldn't help her. "What? Aren't you smart enough to figure it out?"

"Well, I – I – Oh! Of course I am, Vegeta!" She slammed her fist down on the desk, making her coffee slosh out of the mug. She quickly scooted her chair away so the coffee wouldn't run off the desk and into her lap. She stood up and crossed her arms in a mirror image of her saiyan friend. "But, you see, it would take who knows how long, and hell, I don't even know if we have the right materials on Earth."

"I'm not telling you to finish it tonight. You should have adequate time to complete it."

"Why do you need another space pod anyway? Is yours broken?"

"No." He wasn't going to explain yet why he needed her to build him a new space pod. He was still waiting for the upload to complete. He absolutely refused to tell her his plan until he knew that one vital piece of information. It was the key that would make or break the whole idea. He wasn't going to waste his time explaining his thoughts if they were useless anyway.

"Man, Vegeta," Bulma groaned. She rubbed her forehead. "You're asking a lot of me."

"I'm not asking."

"Pardon me. You're demanding a lot of me. What if I can't do it?"

"You'll do it. If you're concerned about materials you can use the scraps from Raditz's space pod. I understand Kakarrot's brat destroyed it during their battle." Vegeta checked the upload progress again. He wasn't happy with what it said. He raked his hands through his flame of hair.

She shrugged. "Yeah, I guess he did. Is that why you need another pod? So Raditz can leave too?"

"No. Not exactly." Vegeta was tired of waiting around. He needed to do something before he went crazy while the upload slowly progressed. "We might as well bring the space pod here so you can examine it."

"Good luck getting it in here." Bulma picked up her coffee and took another sip.

Vegeta looked up at the door at the top of the stairs. That was the only entrance to the laboratory, and it wasn't big enough to fit the space pod through. He smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. "You've got to be kidding me," he grumbled.

"Don't worry about it. We can take it to one of the labs at headquarters in the morning." Bulma sat down and crossed her legs. She held her mug with both hands, enjoying the warmth spreading up her arms from it, and nursed the hot beverage.

One corner of Vegeta's mouth turned down. "That'll go over well. Your employees will see it and recognize it from the news and then you'll have a mess on your hands."

"Why, Vegeta," Bulma said sardonically, "I had no idea you'd care about scaring the poor, pathetic humans!"

He sneered. "I don't. But I do want them to stay out of the way."

Bulma snorted and rolled her eyes. She should have known better than to think he would care a thing about the human populace. Of course he only had his own interest in mind. That was one thing she could always count on with him. He was goal-oriented, driven by his own needs, even at the expense of others. She tucked her hair behind her ear and spun around in her chair a few times. She was already getting bored and it hadn't even been a full hour yet.

"I don't know where else we could take it. We can't get it into my dad's lab either."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Whatever, we'll figure it out later."

"Hn."

From there the conversation died. Bulma tried to amuse herself by tinkering around with some of her half-completed gadgets, but she was too tired to do much of anything with them. Vegeta continuously paced the length of the laboratory, sometimes muttering to himself under his breath in his native language. His tail uncoiled from his waist and curled through the air behind him, sometimes looking like a question mark following him around. His brows furrowed as he lost himself in thought. At first his pacing annoyed Bulma; she normally didn't like being around anyone who was visibly agitated because it tended to rub off on her, but she soon found his behavior rather entertaining, and she started giggling as she watched him. He didn't notice, much too absorbed in his thoughts to care. And so the next three hours passed quietly.

Bulma folded her arms on her desk and rested her head on them at 3:00AM. She drank the whole pot of coffee in an attempt to stay awake, but she was simply too tired. She couldn't keep her eyes open any longer. She figured in such an uncomfortable position she would only be able to sleep for a few minutes anyway, so she allowed herself to nod off.

She was jolted awake when her computer made a cheerful sound alerting her that the upload was finally complete. She yawned, rubbing her eyes, and sat up to look at the screen. Her eyes widened when she saw how much information was displayed, and it was only a small fraction of the total. She spun around in her chair to tell Vegeta that the upload was complete, but she didn't see him anywhere. "Vegeta? Hey, you in here?" She was met with silence.

'Wonder where he went.' Bulma stood up and stretched her hands over her head. Her legs felt like jelly she was so tired. More than anything she wanted to drag herself up to bed, but she figured she should find Vegeta first. She looked around her lab one more time before shrugging and trudging up the stairs. 'Maybe he went to get a snack or something.'

She sluggishly walked through the hall to the kitchen. As she expected, the light was shining under the door. Someone had to be in there. She pushed the door open and first looked over at the refrigerator, but no one was there. She turned to the table, expecting to see Vegeta sitting there shoveling food into his mouth, but she didn't see him eating. He was sitting there, but his cheek was resting in his upturned hand and his elbow was resting on the table. His other hand was resting in his lap. His eyes were closed and his breathing was slow and steady.

"Vegeta?" she whispered. "Hey, you awake?"

She padded over to him when he didn't respond and reached out to touch him. She withdrew her hand when she remembered what he did to her when they were kids. The only broken bone she ever had was from waking him up. It was a lesson well learned: never wake Vegeta up. She didn't want to test his temper, so she silently backed away from him and left the kitchen, turning the light off on her way out. Instead of returning to her laboratory, she went upstairs to her bedroom. Not even bothering to change into pajamas, she collapsed on her bed, pulled her covers over her body, and fell asleep.

Vegeta woke up disoriented when the lights turned on and he heard heels clicking across the floor accompanied by an off-key song. He opened his eyes and looked for the source of the noise, ready to blast it, when he saw Mrs. Brief opening the refrigerator to pull out some ingredients to start breakfast. The thought of breakfast instantly made his stomach growl, which caught the blonde woman's attention.

"Oh, Vegeta, I didn't know you were in here. Up early today?"

He stood up and stretched. "Never went to bed."

"My, you must be tired. Why don't you go sleep before breakfast? I'll make sure to get you up so you don't miss out." Mrs. Brief smiled at him as she started measuring flour into a large mixing bowl.

"No, I'm fine." He rubbed his burning eyes. "I'll be in the girl's laboratory."

"Oh? What are you doing in there?" she asked with a suggestive quirk of her eyebrow.

Vegeta missed the subtle implication, which was just as well. He grabbed a bunch of bananas from the counter on his way out of the kitchen. "Might've found a way to stay here. Need to research."

He shuffled down the hall to the laboratory. He hadn't meant to fall asleep in the kitchen. He was only there to get a drink and a snack, but he ended up nodding off at the table. On the bright side, the upload should have been completed, meaning he would finally be able to find out the information he needed before putting his plan into action. He entered the code to enter her laboratory and opened the door. The lights were off, meaning Bulma wasn't in there. Shrugging, he went downstairs and walked over to the computer. There was a stupid screensaver with pictures of Bulma and Yamcha appearing all over the screen. He nearly gagged. He sat down at the computer and moved the mouse to make the screensaver go away. What he saw made a smirk curl his lips. There it was, all the coordinates of the known planets in all of Frieza's galaxies.

'This is planet 1076XR and base 108 is planet 906MI.' He found the exact coordinates of the two planets and, a few long calculations later, had the approximate time for travel between the two planets in a space pod going at average speed. 'Eleven absmonths. That's more than enough time.'

He stood up so fast he knocked the chair over and rushed out of the laboratory to find Bulma. He was about to ascend the stairs when he changed his mind. She would be grouchy from lack of sleep and would more than likely scream his ears off. They were ringing just thinking about it. He shook his head and turned to head to the indoor garden where he would no doubt find Dr. Brief on his morning ride. He ran to the garden and threw the doors open, which startled Dr. Brief and nearly made him fall over as he made a sharp turn to the left.

"Vegeta, my boy! There you are. Did you sleep in?" he asked once he got back in balance.

"Didn't sleep," Vegeta mumbled. He growled when he realized the absent-minded scientist was once again distracting him from what he needed to say. "I need you to come outside with me."

"Outside? What for?" Dr. Brief stopped and parked his bicycle. "I'll have to get my coat. It's probably a might chilly this morning."

"Whatever, just hurry." Vegeta tapped his foot impatiently until the room started shaking. He was full of excited energy. He didn't want to wait one minute to get started. He followed Dr. Brief out of the indoor garden and through the halls. At the front door Dr. Brief donned a heavy jacket and opened the door. This time Vegeta went first and led him around the compound to the back yard where his space pod was sitting in a small crater.

Dr. Brief shoved his hands in his pockets when he saw it. "What in the world is this?"

"It's my space pod," Vegeta answered, his tone revealing his impatience. "I need you and the girl to make a replica of it. I only need one for now, but if you can build another one or two later, I'll need them." He opened the hatch and gestured for Dr. Brief to come over and look inside. He pointed to the controls. "This is the control panel of the ship. If you remove this plate here, you can access everything. The fuel line is over here, and this is the oxygen tank."

Finished with the small tour of the small ship, they stepped out of it and circled around the exterior. Dr. Brief marveled at the technology. How something so small and simple-looking could traverse entire galaxies was mind-boggling. He made a fist and knocked on the metal with his knuckles. He didn't recognize the metal. "I think we can probably do it, son, but we don't have all these materials on Earth. I'm not even sure we have an suitable substitutes."

"Not a problem. Use the materials from Raditz's space pod. It was destroyed by Kakarrot's brat." He felt like he was going to have to repeat himself a lot between Dr. Brief and Bulma if he didn't manage to get them in the same place at the same time soon. He hated repeating himself and explaining things and wanted to do it as little as possible while still getting the job done.

"Ah, yes, I'd forgotten about that."

"Hn."

"So what do you plan on doing, if you don't mind my asking?"

Vegeta rested his hand on the smooth metal of the pod. "There's a tracking system in each of the pods that's impossible to disable without destroying. If my pod were to suddenly disappear, it would arouse suspicion."

"I see." Dr. Brief pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and put one in his mouth. He chewed it for a minute while he thought about how he was going to make a copy of the space pod. Maybe he could even improve it. The pod seemed a little cramped inside. "I'm not sure how making another pod will help anything."

The saiyan smirked. "I'll explain later." He crossed his arms over his chest. "You're the mechanical genius and the girl is the technological genius, right?"

Dr. Brief nodded. "That's one way of putting it."

"I need you start on the space pod right away. All you need to do is copy the design. Raditz can help you build the new one. He's an idiot, but he follows orders well enough." Vegeta started walking back to the compound.

The old scientist chuckled and shook his head as he opened the hatch as he had seen Vegeta do before. He sat in the seat, pulled a small pad of paper out of his pocket, and started taking notes on the design of the space pod. Normally he wouldn't start work until after breakfast, but the urgency radiating from Vegeta was enough to make him change his routine. He had a feeling time was of the essence. Anyway, if whatever Vegeta had up his sleeve would enable him to stay on Earth, he was willing to comply. He didn't know if he and his family could stand losing the surly saiyan again.

Vegeta ran upstairs and kicked the door to Nappa's guestroom open. He ignored his old bodyguard jumping straight up in the air in surprise and snatched his scouter from his nightstand. He rushed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him, and went back downstairs to Bulma's laboratory. He sat at the desk and scrolled through the vast amount of information uploaded from his scouter on the computer. There was so much more information contained in it, it would be a shame to lose, but getting his plan to work was more important. Besides, the information he wanted to save was already saved in his memory. He didn't really need outside storage for his memories.

'Where did that girl put Raditz's scouter? It's probably here somewhere.' Vegeta started rifling through all the drawers of the desk, but he didn't find any mechanical devices aside from something that looked like an oversized pocket watch. He tossed it aside and raked his hand through his hair. He stood up and started searching through the piles of junk in the laboratory. After searching for over half an hour, he still hadn't found it. Growing frustrated, he ran up the stairs and headed for the infirmary to the room where Raditz was kept for the past year. He looked around the small room and could have laughed when he saw the scouter with the dark green screen sitting on the small table next to the bed. He grabbed it and carried it back to Bulma's laboratory.

'Frieza probably thinks Raditz is dead. That's just as well. I'll have to confirm that when I send my purge report.' There were tracking systems in the scouters like in the space pods that likewise couldn't be deactivated without being destroyed. If Raditz were presumed dead, no one would give a second thought to his scouter being destroyed, thus having the tracking mechanism offline. Perfect.

He turned his head when he heard someone knocking on the door to the lab. "Vegeta, honey, breakfast is ready! Would you mind getting Bulma out of bed? She's being stubborn again."

Rolling his eyes, Vegeta went up the stairs and opened the door. Mrs. Brief was already prancing back to the kitchen, so he went upstairs and barged into Bulma's bedroom. Her face was buried in her pillow and her blanket was covering everything but the crown of her head and her leg, which had found its way off the side of the bed. He snickered, wishing he could take a picture and use as blackmail against her sometime in the future. Dismissing that thought, he went to the side of the bed and yanked the covers off. She groaned and groped around on the bed for her missing blankets, but she couldn't find them.

"Don't want to get up," she murmured into her pillow.

Vegeta grabbed her around the waist and heaved her over his shoulder. "I don't give a damn what you want. We have work to do today, so you're going to get your lazy ass up."

Bulma squeaked in surprise. "Vegeta? No! Vegeta, put me down! Put me down right now!" She tried beating her fists against his back, but to no avail. He hardly even felt it. She screamed and hollered the whole way to the kitchen.

He dropped her in her chair and took a seat next to her. He smiled smugly when he saw the others at the table chuckling at her behavior. He thought it funny how she didn't want to be called 'girl' anymore, yet she still insisted on acting like a spoiled little child. He laughed when he saw her glaring at him.

Though she was upset, Bulma found that Vegeta's laughter was highly contagious and started laughing with him. Her embarrassment disappeared as he continued laughing even as he started eating his breakfast. She poured herself a cup of coffee and started picking at her food. She wasn't very hungry, but she knew she needed energy for the day. She hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, only five hours, but she had a lot of work ahead of her. Vegeta wasn't going to go easy on her, and for once she didn't mind. If it meant keeping him on Earth, it was worth the discomfort of short nights and long days.

Vegeta was the first of the saiyans to finish eating after the Briefs. He thought it was the perfect opportunity to explain his plan while his comrades were too busy eating to protest and the Briefs were gathered together and attentive. "I've come up with an idea that will allow me, Raditz, and Nappa to stay on Earth instead of returning to the lizard as ordered."

Nappa's eyes widened while Raditz started choking on his food. He beat his chest with his fist to clear his airway. Bulma and Mrs. Brief squealed with joy while Dr. Brief merely smiled and nodded for him to continue.

Vegeta looked first at Dr. Brief. "You will design a replica space pod for future use. Then you, girl, will create a system that will forward all incoming transmissions on Nappa's and my scouter to Raditz's scouter. He is assumed to be dead by Frieza, so no one will think anything of his scouter's tracking device being taken offline. It takes 11 absmonths to travel to Frieza's base 108 where he wants us to report after purging this planet. That will allow enough time for the dragon balls to recharge and you can wish for your idiot mate to be revived."

"What about you? You said it takes that long to get to the base," Bulma said, worry creasing her brow. "So you _are_ leaving?"

He shook his head. "No. I am going to send our space pods back to base with our scouters in them. That way Frieza will believe we are on our way after completing our mission. This is why transmissions need to be forwarded, in case anyone tries to contact us during the journey. We will have to be able to answer them or they might suspect something is amiss."

"Sounds reasonable enough," Dr. Brief agreed. "Do they have any way of contacting you directly through the pod, though? What if they try that?"

Vegeta frowned slightly. "They can, and I have considered that possibility. Usually, they try the scouter first and only resort to using the pod communication system if they are unable to contact us through the scouter. It is much less efficient and more prone to interference and failed transmissions. I think it is worth the risk to disregard that system."

Bulma was starting to catch on now. "So your space pods will make it to base with no one knowing you're not aboard them. By the time they find out, a whole year will have passed here. Then it would take at least another year for anyone to come here from that base, and by then you'll have been able to make your wish with the dragon balls."

Raditz swallowed his last bite of food and held up his hand. "Hold on, Vegeta. It might take them a year to come from base 108, but what if Frieza sends soldiers from closer planets? There's got to be bases closer than that. They could be here in weeks!"

"So what if they can?" Vegeta huffed. "I'm not concerned about any of Frieza's soldiers. They're weaklings. Even the earthling warriors could defeat most of them single-handedly. Besides, I think Frieza will want to come kill me personally." He smiled grimly.

"I don't know about this," Raditz sighed. "It sounds awful risky."

"It is."

"But it means you get to stay on Earth!" Bulma cheered. "And anyway, by the time that freezer guy gets here, Vegeta will have been able to make his wish with the dragon balls. He'll have no trouble defeating that creep."

"What are you going to wish for, anyway?" Raditz asked.

Vegeta shrugged. "Immortality, I guess."

Bulma's grin faded. "Immortality? Vegeta, are you crazy? That's a terrible wish!"

"I do not recall asking for your opinion," Vegeta snarled.

"Consider it a free service then." Bulma stood up and started carrying dirty dishes to the sink to wash. "You'd be alive forever, Vegeta. Long after everyone else is dead. Do you really want that? There has to be some other wish you can make that will help you defeat that guy."

"Hn." Vegeta had considered that. He didn't want to outlive his whole race _and_ his pack. But he didn't see any other way to win. He would never be powerful enough to defeat Frieza. He needed to be immortal so that he could keep fighting until he was able to wear Frieza down enough to kill him. That was the only way. He _could_ wish for enough power to defeat him, but that would be cheating. He shook his head. There was time to think about his wish later.

Bulma could see she had at least planted a seed of indecision in his brain, so she figured she shouldn't push the matter or he would make up his mind he was going to make that wish if only to spite her. "I'll get to work on your scouters as soon as I've showered and changed."

Dr. Brief crossed his arms behind his head. "I still don't understand what you need another space pod for if you don't intend to leave Earth."

"It's for Plan B. I would rather not have you stranded on this planet if things don't work out. They almost never do. I want you to have a way to escape in case I am unable to defeat Frieza or he comes sooner than anticipated."

Bulma dropped the plate she was holding. It shattered when it hit the floor. "You want us to leave Earth? Are you crazy?"

"It's better than dying," he growled. "Besides, you might not even have to use it. It never hurts to have a means of interplanetary travel anyway."

"Why would we ever want to go to another planet?"

"I don't know, for a nice vacation?" Vegeta sighed exasperatedly and stood up.

"Oh, very funny," Bulma snapped. "You just don't want to stay with us. We're probably too weak for you, right? Is that it? I can't believe you!"

"Shut up, girl!"

"Stop calling me that!"

"Stop acting like one!"

"I'm not!" Bulma screeched, stamping her foot.

Vegeta snorted. In his opinion, she just contradicted herself. "Nappa, Raditz!" he barked. "Get off your lazy asses and go train! We have two years to get ready for Frieza."

"Yes, sir!" The two large saiyans jumped out of their seats and ran out of the kitchen to go find a suitable training spot.

"Well," Dr. Brief said, standing up, "I'd better get to work on that pod. I'll be outside if anyone needs me."

"Don't forget your coat, sweetie!" Mrs. Brief called as he walked out of the kitchen.

Bulma furiously scrubbed the dishes, hardly able to rein in her anger with the saiyan prince. She was sure he was planning on leaving them. He found a way to escape his master and he was going to use them to do it, then leave them to defend themselves against him when he came looking for Vegeta. She froze when she felt something warm behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Vegeta standing there watching her.

"What do you want?"

He scowled at her but didn't immediately reply. He could sense her anger, but he couldn't understand the reason behind it. He devised the whole plan with her safety in mind. Did she resent him for wanting to protect her? Or was there some sort of misunderstanding somewhere along the way? He clenched his hands into fists at his sides.

"Nothing." He turned and stalked out of the room to go to the indoor garden to train. He didn't have to play any part in the plan yet; he was leaving it up to Bulma and Dr. Brief to manage their parts without his assistance. He would better spend his time training, growing stronger, than sitting in a laboratory overseeing their work. He had two years to get strong enough to finally defeat the scourge of his life. Two years wasn't long, considering how many he'd already spent trying to gain enough power to have the advantage. He didn't believe in the legend of the super saiyan anymore. It was an old tale told to young saiyans to motivate them to train and battle hard. He'd been working himself to death his whole life and it hadn't paid off. There had to be some way to gain power faster than ever before. Maybe then he could win.

It took Bulma almost two weeks to get an untraceable forwarding system set up on the scouters. When she finished that, she started helping her father map out the circuitry of the space pod, working more on the computer while he focused on the more mechanical aspects of the pod. The mind-blowing advanced technology was no match for their combined genius, and soon they had full and thorough blueprints drawn with dozens of pages of notes taken. They were ready to start building a new space pod.

Vegeta did not keep a close eye on them, trusting them to do their work well, but he did ask for updates on their progress at meals. He was anxious for them to hurry, but he didn't think breathing down their necks was the best way to get them to work faster, so he refrained. Over a month had passed since he first told them his plan. Each passing day made him more nervous. He expected at any moment for Frieza's ship to arrive on Earth and blast them all to the next dimension. He hadn't been given a deadline to complete the purge, but that didn't mean he had a lot of time to spare. It would be better to get his plan into action sooner rather than later.

When Bulma ran to the indoor garden to tell him they were finished, he was more than ready to hear it. She threw the doors open and shouted, "Vegeta! Where are you? We're done!"

He had been in the middle of his kata when he heard her shouting. He stopped immediately and phased over to where she was standing. "You're done?"

She nodded. "Yep. In record time, I might add."

"What record were you beating?" He smirked as he strode past her to go to outside where his and Nappa's space pods were resting.

She turned and ran after him, but she didn't catch up until he stopped outside. He opened the hatch to his space pod and entered the coordinates to base 108. He closed the hatch and went over to Nappa's space pod to do the same thing. When both pods were closed and ready to go, he went back inside and headed for Bulma's laboratory. He went to the desk where the three scouters were set and picked up his own. He put it on and pushed the button to send a transmission to Frieza's technicians. He had to wait a minute before the connection went through.

"Base 257, report."

While giving his report, Vegeta picked up Nappa's scouter and left the laboratory to go back outside to the space pods. "This is Vegeta. I have completed the purge of planet 1076XR. Confirm Raditz's death. Nappa and I are heading directly to base 108. It will take approximately 11 absmonths. Send my report to Lord Frieza. Over."

"Copy."

"Also tell Lord Frieza that I am not going to destroy the planet. It will be marketable in several years when the vegetation has recovered from the purge. Out." Vegeta pushed the button to cut the transmission. He opened the hatches to the space pods and put the scouters in the seats, then entered the command to automatically begin stasis five minutes after launch. He wanted everything to be as realistic as possible.

He stepped back from the space pods and muttered, "Here it goes." He pulled the remotes from his bodysuit and entered the command to lift off. Bulma stood close to him and held onto his arm when the pods slowly lifted off the ground, then shot into the sky. The gust of wind would have blown her off her feet if she hadn't been holding onto him firmly.

"Please, Kami, let this work," she whispered.

They stood there for a few minutes, looking up into the dreary gray sky long after the space pods disappeared from view. Bulma shivered and moved closer to Vegeta until she was pressing her body against him. He didn't seem to notice the cold of late November. His body was as warm as ever. Bulma was elated that he was really staying with them, but she held herself in check when she felt like jumping and shouting for joy. Some of Vegeta's nervousness had rubbed off on her. He still hadn't told her much of anything about Frieza, but she could sense that he was actually, truly afraid of him. And so she prayed that his plan would work. If it didn't, the space pods leaving was the beginning of the end for them.

_A/N: And so the plan is set into motion... guess you'll have to wait to see how that works out, eh? I'm still stuck on 57. It's downright frustrating. Oh, and more reviews than _Rediscovering Honor _and almost 16 chapters fewer? I'm impressed. Thanks for all the reviews! Keep 'em coming. :)_

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_


	48. Commence Training

Commence Training

Vegeta dragged himself into the kitchen before lunch, hardly able to keep himself moving. He had spent the whole morning training vigorously, and his body had many cuts, bruises, and burns to show for it. At least he was training by himself. If anyone had been sparring with him, he would probably be in even worse shape and there would be another person in need of medical attention. Once in the kitchen, he went to the refrigerator and pulled an ice pack out of the freezer, held it to his burnt shoulder, and went over to collapse in his chair at the table.

By then Mrs. Brief was used to seeing Vegeta appear in such a state, so she was hardly fazed when she turned from the stove and saw him covered in blood. She sighed as she brought a pan of pasta over to the table and set it down. "Vegeta, honey, you look awful. You really should go to the infirmary."

He grunted and stubbornly shook his head. "Don't need it. I'm fine."

It was that moment that Bulma decided to come into the kitchen for lunch. She overheard their conversation and snorted as she took her seat next to Vegeta. "Yeah, you're fine if bleeding all over the compound is considered healthy."

"Shut up," he spat.

Mrs. Brief giggled as she brought over a bowl filled with fruit. It was funny how Bulma and Vegeta had matured and acted like adults with everyone but each other. She had grown accustomed to their childish bickering, and instead of being distressed by it, she learned to see it as free entertainment. Their relationship was exactly like that of siblings, complete with name-calling, insults, screaming, and the blame game. But through their arguments, Mrs. Brief could see a fondness between them. Vegeta never voiced it, nor did she think he ever would, but he cared deeply for Bulma and almost always put her needs before his own. Like a devoted older brother, he fought with Bulma, but deep down he would give her the world if he could.

"Where's Nappa?" Bulma asked when her mother sat down to begin the meal. They were the only three at the table. It wasn't unusual for Raditz and Dr. Brief to be away. Raditz often went to visit Goku and spar; since learning he was stuck on Earth, he decided it would be best to try mending the broken relationship he had with his only remaining relative. Goku had been suspicious at first, but he was too good-hearted to deny his brother for long. Dr. Brief spent most of his days at headquarters trying to catch up on work he missed when he devoted all his time to figuring out the design of the space pods.

Vegeta shrugged and reached for the bowl of fruit. "Went to train alone for a few days."

"Oh."

As soon as Vegeta started eating, Bulma knew their conversation was over for the time being. She was a little disappointed that he didn't talk more. She had hoped that by having him around more she would get to know him better, but he was as closed off as ever. He never talked about what happened to him during the years he was away from Earth, and she was too afraid to ask for details. She knew at least in part what his occupation had been, and she didn't want to hear about it. More, though, she was afraid because she knew how he reacted when he was younger when she tried to pry into his life. It was rather explosive and dangerous for her.

All Vegeta did was train day in and day out. Sometimes she wasn't sure he slept at all. He would still be training when she went to bed, and when she saw him at breakfast the next morning he would be wearing the same training clothes from the day before. If she thought he was obsessive about training before, now she was sure of it. She knew his obsession was largely driven by fear. He didn't think two years was very long at all, and he had said more than once that he wasn't sure they could expect a full two years anyway. He was determined to be ready for Frieza.

She watched him packing away his lunch and wished she could eat like that and not get fat. He was getting bigger, sure, but not because he was getting fatter. She and her mother had gone shopping for him twice already to buy him larger clothes because his muscle was growing so fast. If she thought he had been muscular to begin with, this was absolutely ridiculous. She mentioned to him the last time she handed him a bag full of clothing capsules, but he didn't tell her much information aside from saying he was getting proper nourishment now. That had to mean he was malnourished before. That was crazy. If he looked that good when he was half-starved…she shook her head as she ate another bite of food.

Mrs. Brief put more pasta on Vegeta's plate and sighed. "You know, dear, I kind of miss having Yamcha around the compound sometimes."

Bulma's heart sank at the mention of her late fiancé. "Me, too, Mom. But in October we can gather the dragon balls and wish him back." That seemed like a lifetime to her. It was only January. Living without him for four months had already been almost too much to bear. She tried to stay busy to keep her mind off him, but every now and then she caught herself dwelling on thoughts of him instead of working.

Vegeta sneered as he thought back on the short first impression the scar-faced warrior made. He was cocky and weak, a miserable combination. He still thought Bulma was too good for him, but she seemed to really be hung up on him. He ate faster so he could leave sooner and hear less of their moaning about the idiot.

"You would have liked him, Vegeta," Mrs. Brief said sadly. "He was interested in martial arts too. You probably could have found a lot in common."

He nearly choked on his food when he heard that. Did she really think having a common interest in martial arts was enough for them to get along? How absurd. The earthling was a weakling. He hated weaklings, especially the ones who thought they were powerful.

Bulma didn't miss the way his lip curled in contempt. She didn't know exactly why Vegeta seemed to have such a strong disliking for her fiancé. Nappa likewise didn't seem to think much of him, either snorting or outright laughing when someone brought him up in conversation. It was nearly enough to make her hate the bald saiyan, but she couldn't hold that against him. So he and Yamcha hadn't gotten along. Obviously. Nappa was the one who killed him. If she didn't know the saiyans better than she did, she would have loathed him for that. But, somewhere underneath their hard, cold exteriors, the saiyans were people too. They had been twisted and used for sadistic purposes their whole lives. It was what they knew. They lived to battle, and their battles always ended in death, either their own or their opponent's. It just so happened that Yamcha was the last one to go up against them and perish. He simply wasn't strong enough.

That didn't mean it was easy for Bulma to forgive Nappa. On the contrary, she held a grudge against him for several weeks, even though she knew she could bring Yamcha to life with the dragon balls. It was the principle of the matter. He killed Yamcha. She was as surprised as anyone when she stopped hating him. She still wasn't sure exactly why she had, though she figured it was probably because of the way he genuinely cared about Vegeta. He was protective over his prince, even if he was weaker. She didn't know of any examples, but she was sure he had protected Vegeta as he grew up, and she had to be grateful to him for that. Vegeta surely could have turned out a lot worse than he did if not for Nappa's guidance.

Vegeta finished his lunch and left the kitchen to go continue his training. He entered the indoor garden and walked over to his usual training spot and immediately moved into his kata. He didn't know how much he strength he had gained during his short stay on Earth, but he could tell he was noticeably stronger, if only because he had his basic needs cared for. He had adequate nutrition, hydration, and sleep, none of which he ever had when he was with Frieza; he remembered the same effect happening the last time he was on Earth. The gravity was weak, but he was still able to make rapid gains in his power.

That was how the rest of the day went, with Vegeta training at a grueling pace in the indoor garden while Mrs. Brief prepared dinner and Bulma returned to her laboratory to work on an upgrade for one of Capsule Corporation's most popular software packages. Bulma was bored with her work, but as vice president it was her duty to stay on top of things at work, which meant putting her hand to the grindstone even when she would much rather take a relaxing day off. After her conversation at lunch she found her mind often wandering to thoughts of Yamcha, a distraction that led to several glitches in the upgrade, which only frustrated her more.

'Wonder what he'll say when he finds out the saiyans are living with us,' she mused. She propped her feet up on the desk and crossed her hands behind her head, figuring she deserved a break. 'He'll probably be pretty mad. I don't think he'll forgive Nappa and Vegeta too fast.'

It was a thought that worried her from time to time. She wanted Vegeta and Yamcha to get along when he was revived, but she highly doubted that would go over so smoothly. Vegeta still didn't seem to think much of Yamcha even though he was dead. She hoped something would work out, or else she would end up having to choose between her brother and her fiancé. How could she make that choice? She loved both of them, just in different ways. She wasn't going to kick Vegeta out, especially after he made such a risky choice to stay on Earth with her family. And she wasn't going to break up with Yamcha, who she was very much in love with, just because Vegeta thought he was a weakling.

She pushed that thought aside. It was too depressing. She would worry about it when the time came. Right now she had other things to think about, like how to spend more time with Vegeta. She hadn't missed him for years; she still thought about him on occasion, but it was so long since he left that the pain of his absence wasn't there anymore. She got over him. But now that he was back, she was eager to spend time with him. It was almost as if he filled a void in her life she hadn't known she had. She didn't know what to do, though. _All_ he wanted to do was train. Before, she had at least been able to convince him to take a break now and then and have some fun, like swim in the pool, watch a movie, or play a game, but now she was never able to pull him away from his training.

'Guess I could train with him. That's what I did when we were kids. Hell, he's the one who got me into martial arts to begin with.' She laughed when she remembered her first training session. She was so bummed that he wasn't going to take a more active role teaching her. He told her to do a few hundred punches. She was so bored and tired by the end of it she considered giving up. But she didn't. 'I bet the gap between us in strength is a million times wider now. He'd accidentally kill me if he tried to train me now. Then again, maybe not.' She imagined herself going to ask him to train her. He would laugh in her face, call her a weakling girl, and go somewhere else to train. She shrugged. That was probably how it would go, but she could try.

That evening Vegeta sat down to eat with the Briefs. He was even more beat up than he had been at lunch, but this time no one said anything to him about it. It was obvious he wasn't going to listen when they pled with him to go to the infirmary or take a break for a day or two. Seeing the state he was in made Bulma nervous. If he was being that hard on himself, how hard would he be on her if he actually agreed to train her? She was a lot tougher than she had been when she was nine, but she was by no means at the same level as him. She still hated pain and she didn't want to get any visible signs that she'd been fighting. No cuts, burns, bruises, scrapes, or other lacerations. Vegeta was coated in them.

"You going to train after dinner again?" she asked casually once Vegeta finished eating.

"Hn." He drank the rest of his water and stood up.

"Wait, Vegeta!" Bulma stood up and grabbed his arm to stop him. She blushed a little when he raised an eyebrow at her. "I was, uh, I was wondering if you'd train me? Like old times?"

If possible, his eyebrow raised higher. "You're insane."

She huffed and pushed a stray stand of hair behind her ear. "No, I'm not. I just want to train again. It's been a long time. I used to be pretty good, actually."

"Perhaps by human standards –"

"I know, I know! Compared to you I'm a weakling. But that's why I want to train. I want to get stronger. You know I kind of learned how to use ki. Not really well, but a little."

Vegeta stared at her a few moments, actually impressed. Her power level was still trivial, but she was right, she was good for a human. Especially a human female. If she could also manipulate her ki, perhaps she would be worth training. He did like the idea of her being able to fend for herself when he wasn't able to protect her. Chances were if Frieza came to Earth, he would be busy fighting him. There would be other soldiers invading the planet. He couldn't stay with her through that. She would need to be able to defeat the soldiers herself or be killed.

He nodded and pulled his arm free. "Very well. Meet me outside."

"Outside? But it's freezing! Why can't we train in the garden?"

Dr. Brief chimed in, "I think it's a good idea to train outside for a change. Get some fresh air."

For the most part, Vegeta confined himself to the indoor garden to do his training. It was starting to look the worse for wear. Many of the trees had been knocked down, there were gaping holes in the walls, the grass was singed in places, and there were holes and craters littering the floor. Rather than an indoor garden, it was starting to look like some sort of disaster zone. Dr. Brief didn't mention it, but he wasn't particularly happy with the damage. He was concerned for the animals. Trees and flowers were replaceable, but with animals it wasn't the same.

"Dad," Bulma whined, "It's winter! I can't train outside!"

In reply, Dr. Brief shrugged and raised his evening paper to read the comics. He wasn't going to continue arguing with his daughter, but he really did hope they stayed out of the indoor garden. It was bad enough with only Vegeta training in there regularly.

Vegeta smirked. "Ten minutes, girl."

Bulma glared at his back before it disappeared out the door. "I'm not a girl!" Her hands clenched into fists at her sides as she stomped out of the kitchen and went upstairs to change into more suitable training clothes. She decided to take her sword along too to show Vegeta what she taught herself to do using her ki.

Vegeta went to Bulma's laboratory and picked up Raditz's scouter before going outside to wait for her. He wanted to see what her power level was. He stood on the front step of the compound and looked up at the orange-hued sky. It was strange, being stranded again. This time, it was by his own choice. There was no way off the mudball. At least, not yet. Dr. Brief was working on building the new space pod in his free time, but it was taking a while since he didn't have much free time. He put on the scouter when he heard the front door open behind him.

"Alright, I'm ready," Bulma said. "I think."

He turned around and saw that she was wearing running shoes, a pair of navy blue sweatpants, a white sweatshirt, and black gloves. He nodded and led her to the middle of the lawn. "Do you know how to raise your energy?"

"Kind of. I'm not very good at it," she admitted.

"Fine." Vegeta pushed the button on the scouter to read power levels. "Raise it as high as you can."

Bulma nodded as she grit her teeth and closed her eyes to concentrate on raising her ki. She never really mastered it, but she remembered the technique, which was enough for her to be able to raise her power by quite a bit. The effort was exhausting though. After a minute she was sweating and trembling from the effort. "That's it. I can't go any higher," she said, panting.

Vegeta didn't reply right away. He was trying to rein in his surprise. He didn't want to tell her how impressed he was; that would inflate her ego too much. He took the scouter off and handed it to her. "Power level 186. Not bad."

She took the scouter from him and grinned brightly. "Not bad, eh? Pretty damn good, if I say so myself."

He scoffed. "You think that's power?"

"I might not be as strong as you, but—"

"That's an understatement." Vegeta stepped closer to her and picked her up. "I'll show you true power."

"What? Hey, put me down!" Bulma shrieked when he shot into the air. "What are you doing? I don't like flying!"

He jostled her a little to try and quiet her down. She took the hint and stopped screeching, but she clung to him tightly until she was sure he wasn't going to drop her. She looked down at the ground and, once the vertigo passed, watched in wonder as the ground skimmed by under them. She had never flown so fast. Yet, strangely, she never felt safer either. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere secluded." Vegeta looked down and saw they were flying over a vast plain with rolling hills, tall grass swaying in the wind, and small nocturnal wildlife scurrying on the ground. He dropped out of the sky and landed softly for Bulma's sake. He set her down on her feet. "Put the scouter on."

"Huh? Oh, alright." While she fiddled with the scouter, trying to get it to stay on, Vegeta moved a safe distance away from her. "There."

"What does my power level read now?" he asked.

Bulma's mouth moved, but no sound came out. She crumpled to her knees. "It's. It's um. It says your power level is...It says 31,600."

Vegeta was likewise dumbstruck for a moment. He hadn't expected it to be quiet _that_ high. His surprise soon gave way to smugness. Smirking, he clenched his hands into fists and roared as he started raising his power, igniting a flame of ki around his body that exploded around him and knocked Bulma flat on the ground. In the sky clouds started gathering over him and the grass in the field was blown down flat as his energy gusted around him. It seemed to last for hours, but in reality it was only a few minutes before Vegeta reached his maximum power.

"No way," Bulma breathed. She sat up and pushed her tangled hair out of her face. Vegeta looked the same, but she could practically feel his power now.

"What's my power level?"

Bulma gulped when she focused on the number on the display screen. It was unreal. She didn't know how any of her friends compared on this scale, but she didn't think they were quite that strong. She slowly shook her head in disbelief. "It's 39,250."

His tail unwrapped from his waist and flicked behind him. He had no idea his power had grown that much. It felt pretty good. "Are you sure you want to play this game?"

"What game?"

He rolled his eyes and lowered his power. "Training with me. You might be better off training with someone closer to your level."

"Like who?"

He cocked his head to the side. "Good question. I'll train you, but if you can't keep up you're on your own."

"Fair enough." Bulma got to her feet and held her hand out to him to shake, sealing their deal. When he tried to bat her hand away, she dodged his hand and gave him a rude gesture. She missed his hand coming back and winced when she felt a stinging sensation spreading through her arm. "That hurt!"

"You brought it on yourself, girl."

"I'm not a girl!"

"Oh? Then I suppose you can fly yourself back to the compound?"

Bulma looked around at their surroundings. She had no idea how many miles she was away from any civilization, let alone West City. When she looked back at Vegeta, he was hovering a few feet above the ground, ready to take off without her. "No! Vegeta, don't leave me here, you jerk!"

Vegeta chuckled as he picked her up and flew her back to West City, ignoring her ranting about how mean he was to her. In two months he had increased his power by about ten thousand. Even for him, that was staggering. If he had been considering easing up on his training, that thought was dismissed now. What he was doing was working. He just hoped it would be enough. Frieza was rumored to have a maximum power level of over one million. How could he beat that? He shook his head, not wanting to think about that at the moment.

…

Goku stopped mid-punch when he felt an incredible power level growing somewhere far to the west. In his moment of distraction, Raditz caught him with a roundhouse kick that sent him crashing into the side of a mountain. He groaned and pulled himself out of the rubble. When he saw his brother flying toward him, he held up his hand to signal a pause in their spar. "Wait a minute, Raditz! Do you feel that?"

"Feel what?" He turned to face the direction his brother was pointing. He didn't feel anything, but then, he was a novice at feeling power levels, especially those far away. Goku had been teaching him, and he was picking it up fast, but he still didn't sense what Goku did.

Goku lowered himself to the ground, a rare frown on his face. "It's huge. I think it's Vegeta, but why would he be raising his power as if he were going into battle? Something might be wrong."

"I doubt it," Raditz said, shaking his head. "You don't feel anyone else with him, do you? Sometimes he raises his power to maximum to measure his progress."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. It's no big deal. It'll probably go down soon."

Goku rubbed his head and grinned when he felt the power slipping back down to its normal level. "Yeah, you were right. Wow, I didn't know he was _that_ strong. I've got a long way to go if I hope to catch up to him."

Raditz moved into his fighting stance. "You want to catch up to the prince? Good luck. Are you ready to continue our spar now, brother?"

Goku's grin turned into a smirk. "Think you can keep up?"

"We'll see." Raditz charged him and feinted to the right. When Goku moved to dodge his punch, he brought his left foot up to kick him, but his leg moved through Goku's afterimage. He growled and spun around just in time to catch the fist aimed at the back of his head.

Goku pulled his hand free and tried with his other hand, but Raditz blocked it and kicked him into the air. "I can see you've gotten faster!"

Raditz phased behind him and caught him in a chokehold. "Speed always was my strong point."

"Pity you're so slow then."

"What?"

A beam of ki that Goku released seconds before hit Raditz square in the back, forcing him to release his hold on his brother. He fell to the ground and winced in pain. If he hadn't had his armor on his back would have been fried. "How did you do that?"

"I was faster than you."

Raditz smirked and jumped into the air to resume fighting. "Guess speed runs in the family."

"It must. Have you seen how well Gohan keeps up with Piccolo in their spars?" Goku appeared in front of Raditz and delivered a hard right hook. Raditz caught his arm and threw him down to the ground. Before he could get up, the older saiyan rained a barrage of ki balls down on him.

It was quiet for a few seconds before Goku erupted out of the cloud of dust and smoke. He flew straight for Raditz and rammed his head into his chest. He brought his knee up to jab into Raditz's groin before phasing out of sight. Raditz gasped for air and cringed as pain swept through his body. That was a low blow. "I thought –" he wheezed, "I thought you said no hits below the tail."

"Whoops! Guess I did. Well, that's a point against me." Goku appeared, grinning, and kicked his brother between the shoulders. Raditz barely stopped himself before he crashed into the mountainside.

"If I didn't know better," Raditz said as he flew high into the air, "I'd think you still held a grudge against me." He raised his hands and started gathering energy in his palms for one of his most devastating attacks.

Goku landed on the ground and cupped his hands at his sides for his kamehameha wave. "For what? Kidnapping Gohan and trying to kill me? Nah!" He had accepted Raditz's proposal to train together, and he was actually starting to like his brother well enough, but that didn't mean it didn't feel good to give him a taste of his own medicine. Besides, he didn't believe in training lightly. From what he understood, the alien the saiyans served was insanely strong and they only had two years to prepare for him. He didn't like that they had in effect lured him to Earth, but at the same time he was excited by the prospect of a good challenge.

"And here I thought you forgave me!" Raditz laughed, knowing Goku was still a little upset with him for his past actions, but also knowing that Goku was too soft-hearted to hold a very strong grudge. It hadn't taken him more than three days to convince him to be his regular training partner, and after that he even invited him back to his house to meet his wife, reconcile with Gohan, and sit down for one of Chi-Chi's famous meals.

Goku poured his energy into his attack, careful not to make it so strong it would injure Raditz _too_ badly. "Ha! You're lucky I'm such a nice guy."

"Right. Now have a Double Sunday!" Raditz screamed as he threw his beams of ki down at Goku. The two beams converged into one huge beam before they collided with Goku's retaliating kamehameha wave. Both saiyans struggled to keep their beams going, but gradually Goku's started overpowering Raditz's. The long-haired saiyan knew he didn't have a chance once the kamehameha started gaining momentum, so he released his energy and moved to the right to dodge the brunt of the attack. Even so, the heat burnt his bare skin as it flew past and took a sizable chunk of his armor off with it.

Raditz fell to the ground, completely exhausted, and panted for breath. He looked up when he heard Goku running over to him, but his vision blurred, then blacked out. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a warmly lit room. He felt a cool cloth on his forehead and his head was resting on a soft pillow. He turned to the side and saw Goku sitting next to him, grinning.

"Wha' happened?" he slurred.

"You passed out."

The large saiyan groaned as he forced himself to sit up. He saw that he had been lying on the couch in the Sons' living room. "How long?"

"Fifteen minutes or so. Better than last time." Goku's grin broadened.

"Shut up, Kakarrot."

"My name's Goku."

Raditz smirked. "Your name's always going to be Kakarrot to me, little brother."

"I think it's kind of a cool name." Raditz turned to the other side when he heard Gohan running over to them. He hopped on his father's lap and sat down, the same Son grin on his face. "Are you better now, Uncle Raditz?"

"Yeah, kid," Raditz said. He reached out and ruffled Gohan's hair. "I'm fine."

"Glad to hear it," Goku said.

"Yeah, me too," Raditz agreed. He pushed himself up to his feet and closed his eyes until the wave of dizziness passed. "I should probably be getting back to Capsule Corporation. It's getting pretty late."

"Wouldn't want to stay out past your curfew," Goku joked. He stood up, holding Gohan, and walked to the front door with Raditz.

"Very funny. I'm more concerned about getting a good night's sleep before someone gets me up for breakfast. See you tomorrow." Raditz waved as he levitated off the ground until he was several yards off the ground, then blasted off to the northwest toward West City. He got in a lot of good training that day, as he did most days, and he was ready to hit the hay. Even if he wanted to take a day off from training, he didn't dare for fear Vegeta would demand a spar with him.

When he reached Capsule Corporation, he was surprised to find Vegeta outside the compound with Bulma. He couldn't see what they were doing until he landed a few yards from them, and then he almost fell over from surprise when he saw Vegeta holding his hands up for Bulma to practice punching.

"You're leaving your left side open," Vegeta told her.

Bulma groaned and tried to fix the error, but in doing so she greatly decreased her punching range. "Is it really that bad?" she whined.

Vegeta shrugged. "Depends. How bad is it to allow someone to stab you between your fifth and sixth ribs?"

She sighed. "Bad."

"Exactly. Do it again."

"Vegeta, I'm tired. Can't we call it quits for tonight?" Bulma dropped her arms to her sides and yawned, as if to make her point.

"Weakling."

"That insult loses its effectiveness after the hundredth time," she spat. "And anyway, I'm not that weak. You saw it yourself! I'm stronger than most humans. The only people stronger than me are my friends, so I'm not worried about having to defend myself against any enemies."

"What about when Frieza comes with a whole army?" Vegeta snapped. "Do you expect them to take it easy on you because you're a female? They'd kill you like all the rest, and if you're lucky they'll wait to rape you until _after_ you're dead!"

Bulma took a step back from him and grimaced. "They would really do that?" she asked timidly.

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest. She could see the tip of his tail twitching with his rising anger. "If they're feeling merciful."

"They're really that bad?"

"Girl, you have no fucking idea how bad they are. You can't count on your friends to be there to save you. They will probably be drawn away by stronger fighters and you will be left to fend for yourself." Vegeta sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Go to bed. You're useless when you're tired."

Bulma frowned, then stepped forward and hugged the saiyan. "Thanks, Vegeta. I'll work hard." She pecked his cheek. "Goodnight."

Vegeta's tail uncoiled from his waist and slowly curled and flicked as he watched her retreat into the compound. He raised one hand to his cheek and touched where she kissed him. That was the first time she'd ever done that. He got more than enough kisses from Mrs. Brief, but never from Bulma. Strange.

Raditz cleared his throat and walked over to Vegeta. "What are you doing with her?"

"Training."

The third-class saiyan scoffed. "Training _her_? Seriously? Why waste your time on her?"

Vegeta's eyes narrowed. "Are you questioning me?"

"No, sir," Raditz mumbled. He tilted his head back to look at the sky. "We could grow so much faster if this planet's gravity weren't so weak. I'll bet Vegeta-sei had gravity at least ten times greater."

"What can we do about it?" Vegeta growled. He turned and went back into the compound to finish his training in the indoor garden alone. Raditz followed him inside, but he went upstairs to his guestroom to shower and go to bed.

Dr. Brief extinguished his cigarette and stood up, stretching his arms over his head. He stepped into his bedroom, closing the balcony door behind him. He shrugged off his coat and hung it on the back of his desk chair as he crossed the room to go to bed. He had been having a hard time getting to sleep, and when he heard the shouting match outside he went to see what the fuss was about. What he heard greatly disturbed him. He hadn't given much thought to what would happen when Frieza came. He imagined him to be by himself, not accompanied by a vicious army. Just imagining what Vegeta said made him shudder.

'They've got to get stronger. And I think I know how to help them.' He sat up in bed and turned on the lamp on his nightstand. He glanced over his shoulder at his wife, but she was still sleeping soundly. He opened the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out an old, worn notebook and a pen and started scribbling notes and calculations for his next invention: a gravity simulator.

_A/N: Kind of reminds me of the three years they trained for the androids, except now it's two years to train for Frieza. _

_Power levels of interest:  
>Vegeta: 39,250<br>Bulma: 186  
>Nappa: 15,100<br>Raditz: 14,500  
>Goku: 25,800<br>Gohan: 2,150  
><em>_Piccolo: 2,300_

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review! I'm probably going to update again tomorrow since I'm going to my friend's house for another kayaking trip over the weekend and I won't be able to update while I'm there. So I better get lots of reviews today, got it? :)_


	49. Reconnecting

Reconnecting

She didn't particularly want him to come for a visit. She was having a harder time than her family accepting him after what he did to them. But she was the wife of the most forgiving man on the planet, and her son was following in his footsteps. Chi-Chi Son sat down at the kitchen table to start scaling another monstrous fish Gohan brought home. She was tired of having fish for dinner almost every day, but she didn't want to discourage her son, so she kept her peace. She picked up her knife and started cutting the scales off.

"Goku, I don't like him. I don't want him hanging around here too much. He'll be a bad influence on Gohan."

"Aw, he's not so bad, Chi," Goku said. He sat down in the chair next to her and rubbed her shoulders with one hand. "I know he made some mistakes, but you should give him a chance."

"I haven't thrown him out yet, have I?" she snapped.

"Well, no, but—"

"But nothing, Goku!" she shouted. She turned her head to face him, her scowl making her look years older than she was. "He's been here every day for the past four months! When do I ever get to see you? You're always out training with that _brother_ of yours!"

"I know, Chi-Chi, but this Frieza guy is coming and we have to be ready for him!"

"I don't care about Freezer, or whatever his name is!" Chi-Chi slammed her hand down on the table, stabbing it with her knife. "You were gone for almost a whole year, Goku! A _year_!" She covered her face with her hands as tears welled up in her eyes.

"Please don't cry," Goku said, pulling her into his arms. "I'm sorry, Chi, I didn't know it bothered you so much. I'll call him at Capsule Corp and tell him to take a couple days off, ok?"

Chi-Chi buried her face in Goku's chest, her hands tightly gripping his training gi, and nodded slowly. "Thank you, Goku. It's not wrong for me to want some time with my husband, is it?"

Rubbing her back, he sniffed her hair and smiled. He loved her scent. It was warm and comforting, and it reminded him of some of his best memories. He hadn't known her too well when he married her, but over the past few years he had grown to love her. She was a wonderful wife; a bit high-strung and overbearing, but she meant well. She was pushy because she wanted what was best for her family, and he appreciated that about her.

After a while she sat up and brushed away her tears with the back of her hand. She sniffled a little and laughed at herself for her conflicting emotions. "Why don't you call now? He might already be on his way. I'm going to go get Gohan ready to visit his grandfather."

Goku stood up and crossed the kitchen. He picked up the phone and started dialing the number to Capsule Corporation. "He's visiting your dad?"

Chi-Chi grinned. "I just decided a minute ago he hadn't seen him for entirely too long."

"You know, I think you're right." Goku caught her hand and spun her around before pulling her against his chest. He tilted her chin up with his free hand and kissed her.

…

Mrs. Brief hung up the phone and ran out of the kitchen to catch Raditz before he left. She was heading upstairs when she saw him walking down the hall toward the front door. She waved her hand at him, but he didn't see her. "Raditz! Mr. Raditz!" She ran down the stairs and stopped him. "Goku just called and said you should take a couple days off from training. He has other matters he needs to attend to."

"Other matters?" Raditz frowned. "What other matters?"

The blonde woman covered her mouth as she giggled. "His _wife_, for one thing," she said, playfully elbowing him. "Those two lovebirds must need some time alone."

"Thank you for planting those disgusting mental images," Raditz groused. His face scrunched in a grimace as he gently pushed past Mrs. Brief to go outside. If he couldn't train with Kakarrot then he would train by himself out in the yard. He found Nappa outside furiously punching and kicking the air and circled around him to avoid being hit.

"What are you doing here?" Nappa asked. He never paused in his training.

Raditz leaned against the wall of the compound. "Kakarrot doesn't want to train today. Interested in a spar?"

Nappa grunted and stopped punching the air. "Been making much progress?"

"I think so." Raditz started stretching his arms. "I can almost keep up with Kakarrot now."

"Almost?" Nappa laughed. "And to think you almost killed him."

Raditz shrugged, chuckling. "Yeah, well his training in Otherworld gave him a pretty big advantage. I was stuck in a coma while he was learning some great techniques." He remembered him talking about the Kaio-ken technique and the spirit bomb. He hadn't seen either of them in action, but the way Kakarrot described them, they sounded incredible.

"Excuses. You ready?" Nappa moved into his fighting stance. He hadn't been gaining power as rapidly as either Raditz or Vegeta. It was just a sign that he was moving out of his prime while they were moving into theirs, so it didn't bother him too much. If anything, it was something to be proud of. Few saiyans reached his age. The ones who did were looked up to as mentors, having learned and practiced techniques they could teach the younger generations. He didn't think he'd be much help in the fight against Frieza, but he still had some tricks he could teach his prince and Raditz.

Raditz smirked and took his own stance across from Nappa. "Yeah, I'm ready. Don't go easy on me."

At lunch, Vegeta walked into the kitchen and saw both Nappa and Raditz sitting at the kitchen table already eating. Both of them looked beat up. Nappa had a black eye and Raditz's lip was busted. He sat down and start piling food onto his plate. "Why aren't you sparring with your idiot brother?"

Raditz swallowed his bite of food. "He didn't want to train today."

"And you didn't go over there and make him?" Vegeta sneered and emptied a bag of potato chips onto his plate. "You're going soft. It's disgusting."

The third-class saiyan shrugged and continued eating. He already knew Vegeta didn't particularly approve of his efforts to mend his relationship with his brother and his family. He thought it was weak the way he was making an effort to get along with Kakarrot simply because he was blood kin. He was still a brainless fool and a traitor to the throne of Vegeta-sei. Of course Vegeta would hold a grudge against him, being the prince of their race and all. Anyway, he was a good sparring partner and Raditz was steadily catching up to his power level. He was almost on par with Nappa now. He proved that in their spar before lunch.

Nappa grunted between bites. He would have pointed out to Vegeta that he was likewise going soft with the Briefs, but he didn't want his face pulverized. He tried to get Vegeta to train with him as much as possible, drawing him away from their host family. He could see that Vegeta was still very much attached to them, and if anything, he was growing more attached instead of less. He didn't think his prince could afford that liability when Frieza came to Earth to find him. The lizard could and would use them against him, threatening and taking their lives before his eyes. Vegeta was much better mentally than he had been for the first year and a half after he was put in isolation, but underneath his healthy exterior lay his madness, always there and ready to take over his mind. If the Briefs were killed, Nappa had no doubt that Vegeta would slip into madness again and never recover. He had to break free of his bonds with them. It was the only way he could survive.

It was because of his need to protect Vegeta that he kept trying to drive a wedge between him and the Briefs, making subtle comments to raise suspicion about their benevolence and generosity. He gave the whole family the cold shoulder, silently telling them to back off and leave him and his prince alone. They didn't seem to take the hint, and he hated them for it. They were making Vegeta weak. Maybe they really did care about him. He doubted that, but whether or not they did, they were ensuring his demise at the hands of Frieza. How hypocritical for Vegeta to dog Raditz about going soft when he was the one who had turned into a lump of clay in the humans' hands.

Mrs. Brief brought another plate of grilled salmon to the table and sat down across from Vegeta, smiling as he grabbed a large piece of fish and tore into it. She loved seeing him enjoying her cooking. She poured him a glass of water and folded her hands in her lap. Making sure they were fed was her top priority, so she usually waited to eat until the saiyans were done so she was sure they had their fill.

"You've been working so hard, sweetie," she said abruptly. "Why don't you take a little break from your training and help me with the shopping?"

Vegeta shoved another piece of fish in his mouth and looked up at her as he chewed. She was smiling at him. So she had been talking to him. He shook his head and swallowed, then took another bite.

"Oh, come on dear," Mrs. Brief insisted, "One hour won't hurt. It's hard for me to do all the shopping alone. You three go through an awful lot of food, you know."

The prince glanced over at the others, who were still shoveling food into their mouths almost faster than they could chew and swallow. He sighed and took another bite and a drink of water before he grudgingly nodded. If she needed help, then he would help her. He didn't think shopping was a very big deal, but then he had never actually gone shopping for groceries before. He winced when she giggled in triumph. He immediately knew it was not going to be a pleasant experience for him.

Nappa glared at the blonde woman, but she didn't notice. He was angry that she would distract Vegeta from his training, even if it was for only one hour. That was an hour better spent training. Didn't she care that the most powerful creature in the universe was going to come to her planet, ready to kill everyone and destroy everything? What an idiot. How she managed to rein Vegeta in to such a trivial task was beyond him. He made a mental note to keep her away from Vegeta as much as possible. She was poison to him.

Vegeta finished his lunch and pushed his plate away. He sighed and stood up, ready to go train some more, but he was stopped on his way out when Mrs. Brief grabbed his hand. "Why don't you go shower and change clothes, honey? I'll have a bite to eat and then we can go."

"Hn." Vegeta pulled away from her and left the kitchen. The way she smiled at him reminded him of why he was willing to give in to her request. The woman was absolutely insane, but she was like a mother to him. It was his duty to help her, to be there for her when she needed him. He rolled his shoulders back and lifted his chin proudly as he went upstairs and into his guestroom to shower.

When Raditz and Nappa finished eating, they got up and went back outside to continue training together through the afternoon. Some of their minor cuts and bruises were already mostly healed from their morning session, so they felt good going into their spar. They faced off and took their fighting stances.

"They're not good for him," Nappa said as he charged forward and started a flurry of punches that Raditz was barely fast enough to dodge.

Raditz caught one of Nappa's fists and swung him around several times before throwing him into the air. He chased after him with ki gathered in his hands. "I know. If he lets them keep distracting him from his training he'll never be strong enough to defeat Frieza."

Nappa hit the ki balls away and blocked a kick with his left knee. "We have to make him see what they're doing to him." He punched Raditz in the jaw and kicked his ribs.

"He doesn't want to see it," Raditz panted. He clutched his ribs with one hand and fired a beam of ki at Nappa's abdomen.

"Doesn't want to see what?"

The two saiyans looked down at the ground and saw Vegeta standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. Behind him, Mrs. Brief was closing the front door and searching through her purse for her hovercar capsule. Nappa and Raditz lowered themselves to the ground and saw that Vegeta was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, a plain black shirt, and a gray jacket. He almost looked human.

"Nothing, sir," Raditz murmured.

Vegeta sneered at them before turning to walk to the driveway behind Mrs. Brief. "That's what I thought."

Mrs. Brief tossed her capsule on the ground and got in the driver's seat when her car appeared. Vegeta walked around to the other side and got in the passenger seat. He buckled his seat belt – for once not having to be told to first – and crossed his arms over his chest. He still wasn't thrilled about shopping with her, thinking back on the shopping trips he had to endure when he was a boy. Of course that had been clothes shopping, which was probably worse. At least he was interested in food.

She rested her hand on his forearm and told him, "I'm glad you decided to come with me, Vegeta. It's so nice to get to spend a little time with you. You're such a busy man."

"Hn."

She started the engine and pulled out of the driveway. "I think Bulma would like to spend more time with you, too. I know she's been training with you, but I think she'd rather do something a bit more fun. You know, like going to see a movie or something."

Vegeta gave her a one-shoulder shrug. He didn't know or care if Bulma wanted to do anything 'fun' with him. He had much more important things to do. He had allowed himself to be distracted by her the last time he was on Earth and needed to train and work on his space pod, but this time he was determined to stay on task for her sake. For all of them, actually. He admitted to himself that he wouldn't mind seeing her more, but it simply wasn't an option for now.

Mrs. Brief turned right at a stoplight and continued down the street for several blocks, all the while chattering about senseless things Vegeta knew nothing about. He had no knowledge of gardening or cooking, which were Mrs. Brief's two hobbies and the only things she _did_ seem to know much about. He grunted every now and then to show he was listening when really his mind was on other things. Namely, how to increase his power faster. Dr. Brief had mentioned he had come up with a way to help his training, but it wasn't complete yet and wouldn't be for another two weeks. He was eager to see what it was, but Dr. Brief insisted it was a surprise and wouldn't tell him anything more about it.

The saiyan groaned when he saw where they were going. Mrs. Brief pulled into a large parking lot filled with cars in front of an enormous building that was, presumably, filled with foods of all sorts. It wasn't that he wasn't interested to see what sorts of foods were available, it was more that he wasn't excited about being around so many humans. When she parked, he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. He was surprised when Mrs. Brief didn't capsulate the car as she usually did. When she came around the car, she linked her arm through his.

"Now, I know you're shy, sweetie, but don't worry," Mrs. Brief said, "There's a lot of people here but they won't pay you any mind. Stick close to me so you don't get lost."

"I'm not a child," he grumbled.

"Oh, of course not, dear," she said. They went through the automatic sliding door, which startled Vegeta, and she let go of his arm and got a cart. She set her purse in the child seat and pushed the cart down the first aisle with Vegeta trailing on her heels.

Vegeta sniffed the air and, despite having eaten a large lunch less than an hour ago, his mouth started watering. He could smell raw meat, fish, fresh fruit and vegetables, spices, sugar, and chocolate. He quickly forgot any doubts he had about accompanying Mrs. Brief on a shopping trip and decided this store was one of his favorite places on the planet. While he was looking around at all the options, Mrs. Brief pulled a lengthy shopping list out of her purse and started picking boxes, cans, and bottles off the shelves without seeming to look at what she was choosing.

She stopped when she picked up a box of sugary cereal. "You do like this kind of cereal, don't you, dear?" she asked.

He looked at the box. There was some sort of fat man with a bushy white mustache and wearing a ridiculous hat on the front. There were bright colors all over it. He shook his head and picked up a box that had a simple picture of a bowl of cereal. There were no obnoxious colors and no childish creature on it. He handed it to Mrs. Brief.

"Are you sure this is the kind you want?" she asked as she tossed the box into the cart.

"Hn."

"Alright then." Mrs. Brief pushed the cart to the next aisle and again started picking food off the shelves without ever stopping. Vegeta followed behind her, marveling at her ability to fill the cart with the right foodstuffs without even looking. He nearly bumped into her when she stopped abruptly. "Vegeta, would you be a dear and get me that box of macaroni on the top shelf?" She pointed to the largest box there was. "Actually, I'll need as many boxes as they have."

Vegeta could reach up and get the first box, but to get any more he had to levitate off the ground. He didn't think anything of it, and apparently neither did Mrs. Brief because she didn't say anything about it. He was sure that if Bulma had been the one with him she would have yelled at him for drawing attention to his superhuman powers, so he was glad Mrs. Brief didn't mind. He handed her all the boxes of macaroni and then dropped back down to the floor.

The cart was completely full by the time they got through two aisles. Mrs. Brief pushed the cart to a check-out station and started unloading the contents onto a conveyer belt. Vegeta watched her for a while before he started taking things out of the cart and putting them on the belt as well. He was irritated by the constant beeping that came from the other end, where an old woman with blue-gray hair, thick glasses, and hot pink lipstick was taking everything off the belt, swiping them over some kind of red light, and sliding it across a counter where a teenage boy with red hair and freckles was struggling to shove it all into brown paper bags.

When everything was out of the cart, Mrs. Brief pulled it to the other end where the teenager started putting the bags in the cart. Mrs. Brief took her purse out of the cart and pulled a small plastic card out of one of the pockets. Vegeta stood at her side, keeping an eye on the boy to make sure he didn't try stealing any of their food. The bagboy must have felt watched because he looked up at him, met his gaze for a second, gulped, and turned back to bagging the groceries.

The old lady pushed a button on the register and told Mrs. Brief, "That's 1,346 zeni, ma'am."

"Here you go," Mrs. Brief said happily as she handed the woman her plastic card.

The old lady swiped the card through some sort of machine and handed it back to Mrs. Brief with a slip of paper. Mrs. Brief pulled a pen out of her purse, wrote something on the paper, and handed it back to the cashier.

"Have a nice day," the woman said. She didn't sound like she meant it. Vegeta glared at her as he walked past.

"Thanks, you too!" Mrs. Brief chimed as she started pushing the cart toward the doors.

Vegeta walked alongside her, still looking around at everything in the store. "Is that all you're going to buy?" he asked when they got outside.

"For today," she answered. "I go shopping every day, sweetie. This is Monday, so I buy what I need from the first two aisles. Tomorrow I'll buy what I need from aisles three and four, and so on."

He didn't ask any more questions. He did feel a little guilty that he and his comrades went through so much food that she had to come here and spend so much money every single day. She didn't seem to mind, and he knew the Briefs had more than enough money to support their grocery bills, but he still didn't like that she had to spend so much time and money on them. When she wasn't sleeping, she was either cooking, washing the dishes, or going shopping. Her whole life revolved around the saiyans.

She opened the trunk of the car and started putting the grocery bags in. Vegeta gently pushed her away and put the rest of the bags in the trunk and shut it.

"Thank you, Vegeta," Mrs. Brief said as she took the cart to the nearest corral.

Vegeta got in the car while she put the cart away and buckled his seatbelt. She got in the driver's seat and turned the car on. "There, now that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Hn." He looked out the window as she backed out of her parking space and turned out of the parking lot.

"I know it's not the most exciting thing to do," she said, "but it needs to be done. It was wonderful having you with me to help reach those things on the top shelf. And lifting those bags. Sometimes they're awful heavy."

When they got back to Capsule Corporation, Mrs. Brief opened the trunk and Vegeta grabbed some grocery bags and followed her inside. She told him to put them on the counter in the kitchen so she could put everything away. He went back outside and grabbed the rest of the bags, closing the trunk with his tail since both of his hands were full. He carried the groceries to the kitchen and set them down. He stood there a minute, watching her taking things out of the bags and putting them in the appropriate cupboards.

"Do you need help every day?" he mumbled.

"It would be nice," she said, "But I know you're a very busy young man. You don't have to go with me every day."

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll go with you tomorrow."

Mrs. Brief giggled and folded up an empty bag. "If you want to, honey."

"Hn."

That settled, Vegeta went to the indoor garden to train until dinner. He had to make up for lost time, and the time he would be losing from every day from there on out. He stopped in his usual starting spot and began his kata. He had a lot of work to do for the next few hours because after dinner he would be busy training Bulma. After that, he might train another hour or two before bed, but most of his day was shot. The Briefs were consuming a good amount of his training time. He knew it, but he couldn't push them away when they needed him.

Being needed. What a strange concept to the saiyan prince. The only people he ever knew who needed him for anything were Raditz and Nappa, and he had never been much help to them, aside from taking the brunt of the punishment when they messed up. He kept them alive, but that was about it. For the most part, he left them to their own devices, only making sure they trained every day when they got lazy. They didn't _need_ him in the same way the Briefs needed him. He still wasn't entirely comfortable providing his services to them. He felt ridiculous going to the grocery store with Mrs. Brief and he was getting frustrated with Bulma in their training sessions. The only thing that kept him going was the instinctual drive to help and protect his pack. That drive overruled any of his rational misgivings, aggravations, and humiliation.

Even a month ago he probably wouldn't have gone with Mrs. Brief to the store, let alone offered to go with her every day. He wouldn't have felt guilt for taking advantage of their resources. Though he had never been handed anything in his life, he had a deep-seated sense of entitlement, which meant the Briefs _should_ spend all their time and money on him, making sure he is comfortable and that he has proper training time and facilities. But now, a month later, he didn't want to use them; he wanted to help them. He didn't want to take from them; he wanted to give to them. Their relationship was becoming more mutual. They cared deeply for him, and he cared even more deeply for them. He knew his attachments to them were strengthening, but for the first time he didn't even want to resist them. He wanted to give in, to know what it meant to truly belong. If that meant giving up some of his precious training time, so be it.

…

Bulma walked through the front door of the compound, a gust of early April wind blowing in behind her. Shivering, she set her briefcase on the table in the hall and unbuttoned her coat. She hung it in the hall closet and ran her hands through her hair, trying to tame the tangled mess. "When is it ever going to warm up?" she groused as she headed for the kitchen to get a cup of tea before dinner.

She spent the day at headquarters attending meetings and reading contracts. Not the most exciting day for the adventurous heiress, but it needed to be done. The only bright side was that she got some _human_ interaction other than talking with her parents. Not that she minded talking to her parents and hanging out with space aliens, but sometimes she needed a break from them. She walked into the warm kitchen and sniffed the air. She could smell fresh bread baking.

"Hey, Mom," she sighed as she went to the cupboard to get a mug and tea leaves.

Mrs. Brief glanced up from the kettle of soup she was stirring. "Hi there, sweetie. How was work?"

"Boring." Bulma filled the tea kettle with water and put it on the only burner on the stove not covered with pots and pans. She turned on the fire and leaned against the counter next to her mother.

Mrs. Brief giggled. "That's what you always say."

"It's always true. I hate working at the office. I'd rather be in my lab."

The blonde woman raised the spoon to taste the soup. She smacked her lips and smiled. It was almost perfect, but it needed a little more spice. "Could you hand me the oregano, dear?"

Bulma looked through the jars of spices lining the counter. There were at least a dozen there. The picked up the oregano and handed it to her mother. "I know I'm supposed to take over the company when Dad retires, but I don't think I want to."

"Don't be silly, dear, you've dreamed of being president of Capsule Corporation your whole life." Mrs. Brief shook the oregano into the soup without bothering to measure it. She tasted it again and nodded in satisfaction. It was just right.

Bulma shook her head. "No, you and Dad have dreamed of me being president my whole life." She turned off the fire under the tea kettle when it started whistling.

Mrs. Brief shrugged. "You're the only one who can take over. Would you like to taste the soup?"

"Sure." She took the spoon from her mother and tasted the soup. "It's good. Might need a little more salt."

"I thought it might." Mrs. Brief started shaking some salt into the soup.

Bulma poured the boiling water into a tea pot and added the tea leaves. She looked at the clock so she would know when it had steeped for exactly three minutes. "Well, in any case, I hope he doesn't retire too soon because I don't want the company. He can keep it as long as he wants. I don't mind being vice president, but that's because I still get to work here most of the time."

After three minutes, she poured the tea through a strainer into her mug and carried it to the kitchen table. "Hey, I know, why don't we have Vegeta take over?" she joked.

Giggling, Mrs. Brief shook her head. "I don't think he'd be interested, dear."

"Neither am I."

The blonde ignored that comment and opened the oven to pull out the loaves of bread. She set them on cooling racks and brushed melted butter over them. "Would you set the table, honey?"

"Yeah." Bulma stood up and went to the cupboards to start gathering bowls, plates, glasses, and silverware. "You know, if we keep these saiyans around we might need a bigger table."

"I've already ordered one, dear."

"You what?" Bulma rolled her eyes. "Guess it's official then. We have three permanent saiyan residents."

"Maybe." Mrs. Brief pulled a knife out of a drawer and started slicing the bread. "I know Vegeta will stay with us."

"How will Yamcha feel about that?" Bulma murmured. She set the table and sat down to drink her tea. She didn't want to think about how Yamcha and Vegeta would get along. She already knew: not well. Her parents weren't worried about it, but she was. But she made up her mind that she wasn't going to give up on either one of them. She _was_ going to marry Yamcha and she _was_ going to let Vegeta stay at Capsule Corporation. If they tried to force her to choose between them, she would leave and let them settle their differences on their own. Hopefully without trying to kill each other.

"Did you see Mr. Nappa and Mr. Raditz outside when you came in?" Mrs. Brief asked.

"No, but I think I heard them out back."

"Alright. I'll go tell them dinner is ready."

Bulma sipped her tea and waited a few minutes before her mother came back to the kitchen. She started bringing the food over to the table. Soon, the saiyans started trailing into the kitchen, their bodies glistening with sweat and covered in wounds. Nappa and Raditz collapsed in their seats, and surprisingly the chairs held up under their weight.

Vegeta turned down the hall to go to the kitchen when he saw the front door open and Dr. Brief blew in, clutching the evening newspaper under his arm and holding his briefcase in his hand. His other hand was already unbuttoning his coat. He looked up and saw the flame-haired saiyan. "Ah, Vegeta, my boy, good to see you."

"Hn." Vegeta stopped in front of the kitchen door and waited for Dr. Brief to hang up his coat and set his briefcase on the table next to Bulma's. He opened the door and went in, holding it open for Dr. Brief behind him.

They sat down at the table where the others were already waiting for them. Dr. Brief unfolded his newspaper and started reading while Mrs. Brief served the food. "Sorry I got home so late, dear. I had a devil of a time getting out of the office."

"That's alright, sweetie," Mrs. Brief said.

Their meal went peacefully, with Dr. Brief occasionally making comments about the articles in the paper and Mrs. Brief asking if anyone wanted more food. Bulma didn't say much, and as always the saiyans were silent while they ate. It had become a sort of routine for them, a comfortable silence when they could enjoy each other's company and relax after a long day.

When he was finished eating, Vegeta pushed his chair back from the table to get up and leave to train more. He looked expectantly at Bulma and noticed for the first time that she wasn't wearing training clothes. She was wearing a blue blouse, a gray suit jacket with matching gray slacks, and black high heels. "What are you wearing, girl?"

"What do you mean? It's called a suit, Vegeta. People wear them when they go to work." She stood up and stretched. "I didn't have time to change before dinner. I'll meet you outside in a few minutes." She walked out of the kitchen and headed upstairs to her room to change.

Vegeta was left standing in the kitchen, rather confused. "Work?"

"She means work at headquarters, Vegeta," Mrs. Brief explained. She got up and cleared the dishes off the table to wash. "She hasn't been to the office much since you've been here but she had to go in today for some meetings."

"Hn." Well, that explained why he hadn't seen her at lunch. He hadn't thought much of it. It wouldn't have been the first time she skipped lunch when she was busy in her lab working on something.

Vegeta went outside and stretched while he waited for Bulma to come out. When she finally appeared she was again wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt. He thought that was unnecessary, considering the weather was improving. It was above freezing, though the wind was still bitterly cold.

"Ok, I'm here," she said as she ran across the lawn to him. She stopped and immediately started stretching. "What're we going to work on tonight?"

"Blocks."

"Fun."

"Hn." He didn't need to explain to her that a strong defense was just as important as a good offense. He'd already told her many times before. Maybe learning defensive techniques wasn't as interesting as attacks, but they could save her life. That was what concerned him.

Bulma finished stretching and took her fighting stance – improved since Vegeta had been training her – and waited for him to give her some instructions. She was thrown off guard when he swung at her with a right hook. She automatically raised her left arm to block, but while she was doing that he caught her with a left uppercut. She staggered back a few steps and rubbed her chin. "Vegeta, seriously, go easy on me! We're not fighting for real. Damn that hurt."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm _trying_ to go easy. But I am over a hundred times stronger than you."

"Granted." She sighed and took her stance again. "You didn't tell me you would use both hands."

"Neither would someone who's trying to kill you."

"You're not trying to kill me," she reminded him. "So at least let me know what to expect."

"Fine. I'm going to use both hands. And if you're doing well enough I might just start using my legs too." A few punches later, he again hit Bulma, this time in the abdomen. She grunted and doubled over in pain.

"You're too fast," she groaned.

He snorted. "You're not fast enough."

"It's the same thing!"

"That all depends on where you want to place the blame. You like putting it on your opponent. You're mad that I'm stronger and faster. Will you also blame Frieza's soldiers for being stronger and faster, or will you admit that you're not strong and fast enough to fight them? They're not going to lower themselves to your level. It is your job to raise yourself to theirs."

"Whatever."

"And remember to contract your abdominal muscles."

"Yeah, yeah." Bulma took her stance one more time. "Maybe I should try sparring with someone closer to my level."

Vegeta feinted to the right and brought his left arm around to strike her ribs, but she blocked with her forearm. He drew his arms back and tried another assault aimed at her face, but she managed to block every one of his hits. "Who would you spar?"

Bulma ducked under a hook and crossed her arms in front of her chest to block a kick. "I was thinking Chi-Chi might be up for it. She used to be a fighter too."

When she jumped over his sweep kick he caught her leg with his tail and swung her to the ground. He stood up and crossed his arms over his chest while he waited for her to get up. "Kakarrot's harpy?"

"_Goku's wife_, yes." Bulma stood up and dusted herself off before resuming her stance. "She was actually stronger than me a few years ago. She made it to the quarterfinals in the World Martial Arts Tournament." She caught one of Vegeta's fists in her hand and blocked the other with the palm of her hand.

"But you're stronger than her now," he said as he spun to deliver a roundhouse kick. She blocked with her left leg and hit his left fist away from her.

"Probably. I don't think she's trained much since she married Goku."

He brought his knee up to kick her gut, but she blocked with both hands, leaving her open to attacks with his fists. He punched her face with his left hand. She fell to the ground and rubbed her cheek. She felt tears forming after that one.

"I hope that doesn't leave a bruise."

"Does she know ki manipulation?" Vegeta grabbed her arm and dragged her up to her feet, ready to go again.

Bulma shook her head. "I don't think so." She raised her hands defensively and nodded for him to go ahead. "Just basic martial arts."

Vegeta's kick was blocked with her right arm and his right uppercut was stopped by her left hand. "Fine. Train with her three days a week and I'll train you how to use your ki the other four."

"Assuming she wants to." Bulma fell for another feint and took a hard elbow in the ribs. She gasped for air, struggling to stay on her feet.

"She will if she hopes to live."

"I'll call her tomorrow."

"Hn." Vegeta waited impatiently for her to shake off the pain and take her stance for another round of blocking. They continued like that for an hour before Bulma collapsed on the ground, panting for breath. He was pushing her to her limit when it came to speed and she still wasn't able to keep up.

"I can't," she breathed, "Can't go any more."

Vegeta sighed and paced back and forth a few steps. He wanted her to keep going. She was getting the hang of blocking all his attacks, and she was no longer surprised by multiple limbs flying at her simultaneously. She was a fast learner, but her body wasn't responding as quickly. She needed work on her ki if she ever hoped to increase her speed enough to hold up a solid defense. "Fine. Go to bed, girl."

She glared up at him. "No, _Veggie_. It's too early for bed."

"Fine. Go do whatever you want. I don't care. I have training to do."

Having caught her breath, Bulma stood up and stretched her aching muscles. She was probably going to have some nasty bruises from her training session with Vegeta. "More training? All you do is train! Why don't you take the rest of the night off and relax a little? We could watch a movie or something."

"I don't have time for such trivial things," he immediately responded.

She huffed and pushed her sleeves up over her elbows. "Yeah, that's what you always say." She went inside the compound, slamming the door closed, and headed upstairs to her room to take a long, relaxing bath before bed.

The next morning, Bulma stayed true to her word and called the Son residence after finishing her breakfast. Vegeta and the other saiyans had already left to train and her father was helping clear the dishes from the table before leaving for work. Bulma leaned against the counter while she waited for someone to pick up on the other end. The phone seemed to ring an infinite number of times before she finally heard someone answer.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Chi-Chi! This is Bulma."

"Hi, Bulma." The homemaker sounded distracted, probably keeping an eye on her son to make sure he was keeping his nose in the books. "Don't tell me Raditz wants to come over to train today. Because if he does, you can just tell him—"

"No, Chi, it's not Raditz I'm calling about. Actually, I was wondering if you would be interested in training with me a few days a week." Bulma bit her lip as she waited for a reply. It was slow in coming.

"You want me to train with you? Why?"

Bulma sighed. "Well, Vegeta says we should be ready for when Frieza comes too. He'll bring his army and there'll be soldiers everywhere. He wants us to be strong enough to defend ourselves against him."

"By 'we', you mean 'me,' right?"

The blue-haired woman laughed nervously. She couldn't pull the wool over her friend's eyes. "Technically, yes. But he's got a point. Look, I know you're a good fighter, Chi, and I need a sparring partner closer to my level. I can't keep up with the saiyans. And I think it would be good for you, too. I don't want you to get hurt when Frieza comes."

There was the sound of Chi-Chi screaming at someone to put down a cookie, some whining from a grown man, and a little boy's laughter. Chi-Chi sighed. Bulma could practically see her rubbing her temples as she fought off a headache. "Just a few days a week?"

"Yeah. Like three days. Not too much. Just enough to get us in shape."

Bulma heard some muttering about needing to lose a few pounds and wanting to be able to catch Gohan when he decided to climb out the window and run off. "Alright. When do you want to start?"

Bulma grinned. "How about this afternoon? I can come after lunch and you can get dinner started, then we can spar."

"Wonderful. I'll see you later."

"Bye." Bulma hung up the phone and left the kitchen to go get dressed and ready for another boring morning at headquarters. She decided to pack her training clothes with her so she wouldn't have to stop at the compound before leaving for Mount Paozu. She was excited about sparring with Chi-Chi. They had never trained together before, but she saw her using modified Turtle techniques at the World Martial Arts Tournament that had been very impressive. If she wanted to practice blocking and dodging fast strikes, Chi-Chi was the woman to go up against. She didn't have brute strength, but the speed and precision of her hits was what made her a formidable adversary.

'It'll be good to see her again anyway. And Goku and Gohan. We haven't visited much lately.' Chi-Chi was always too busy cooking and cleaning to come to West City, and Bulma was far too busy with work to take spontaneous trips to Mount Paozu. It was going to be hard to make the time to fly out there three times a week, but she figured it would be worth the hassle. She would improve her fighting technique while spending time with another woman friend. That alone was enough to make her want to do it. She was around men way too much. It was about time she spent time with another woman.

_A/N: So here's the early chapter, as promised! Of course that means you'll have to wait longer for the next one (Tuesday), but you'll manage, I'm sure. I _finally_ finished chapter 57, and I think it actually turned out quite well, so that's good news._

_Okay, so there was a lot of debate over the power levels of the characters as stated in the last chapter... hm, let me try to explain. Goku's power level isn't "too high" because his previous level of ~10,000 was not powered up... ~25,000 is his current maximum power, and he's been training with Raditz for a while, which explains why both of their power levels have increased so much - Remember, Raditz was only at 4000 before he was put in a coma. Nappa and Vegeta likewise have been training together, beating each other up, recovering, etc. along with getting adequate nourishment, so their power levels have risen accordingly. Gohan and Piccolo have been training together, which is why they've about doubled their power since the fight with the saiyans (in only two months, mind you; that's pretty fast improvement). Basically, the saiyans are going to grow much faster than everyone else because they're going to keep beating each other senseless in their training. Then once the gravity room is introduced... explosion of power. The other warriors are training, but they're not growing much faster than in canon, which is why I didn't list their power levels. Tien is a lot stronger than canon, so his power is probably over 7000 by now._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	50. Deeper Than Blood

Deeper Than Blood

Bulma stood to the side and watched Vegeta and Nappa sparring. It was obvious Vegeta had the upper hand, but Nappa was still able to hold his own for quite a while. He seemed to have an endless array of techniques that Vegeta didn't seem to know how to block or dodge. Unfortunately for him, he lacked the speed and brute strength he needed to keep Vegeta down. Bulma couldn't help but cheer for Vegeta; she didn't particularly like Nappa, but more importantly, she felt practically obligated to root for Vegeta in anything he did.

She stepped to the side when Nappa flew past her after being thrown aside by Vegeta. She whirled around and gasped when he landed on the ground and slid a few more yards, dredging up a deep rut in the grass. She knew her mother wouldn't be happy about that. Luckily he missed her rose gardens. Mrs. Brief would never stand for those being marred by their training games. Nappa dragged himself to his feet and charged back at Vegeta, flying so close as he went past Bulma that she was knocked over. She shrieked as she fell, barely able to catch herself before her face met dirt.

'He did that on purpose!' she thought furiously as she stood up, wiping the dirt from her hands off on her jeans. She mentally counted to ten to calm down before she started another shouting match with the overgrown monkey.

She was supposed to be watching their spar, not thinking of ways to get back at Nappa. Vegeta wanted her to observe how a real fight might go without breaks, warnings, and fair play. Honestly, it kind of scared her. She didn't think she would be able to keep up in a fight like that. Not when there was ki involved, as well as super speed and strength. She still hadn't gotten the hang of using her ki very well, which she knew was frustrating Vegeta to no end. He was trying his best to teach her, but she didn't have a knack for it. She had shown him how she could use her ki with a sword, which he had been mildly impressed with; actually, after he saw what she could do he tersely told her she should make sure to keep a weapon on her at all times because it was the only thing that might give her an advantage in a fight. Well, she already knew that. Still, she could see that he was starting to lose interest in training her. She hadn't made much progress and he felt like he was wasting his time. She couldn't blame him; she was frustrated too.

She tried to shrug it off, concluding that she simply didn't have endless potential growth like he did. Even so, it was disheartening. She spent three days a week training with Chi-Chi, which had helped her speed and strength to some degree, but then she came up against another wall in her power that she couldn't seem to breach. No matter what she did – meditate, train alone, train with Vegeta – she just couldn't figure out how to use her ki to help her in fights. She had even considered going to Master Roshi for help, but she doubted he could do anything for her. He was the one that taught her ki manipulation in the first place, and he hadn't been able to get her to the point of proficiency.

Sighing, she sat down in the grass and hugged her knees to her chest. 'Maybe I should just give up. He keeps growing and I'm stuck in a rut. I don't want to hold him back.' She wondered if what she was feeling was anything like sibling rivalry. There he was, her big brother, and she had no chance of ever catching up to him. She was just the pathetic little sister trying to copy him. But he would always be better. No matter how hard she tried, he would always be better. Always one step ahead. Or a thousand. She couldn't even train with him in his new gravity chamber because she couldn't withstand even 5Gs. _That_ was pathetic. Now Vegeta spent all his time training in there instead of the indoor garden, so she saw him even less than before.

She realized she wasn't paying attention to the spar anymore, but she didn't care. She was too busy pitying herself. 'I wonder how he learned everything he knows. He wasn't born knowing it. Someone had to have taught him.'

"You're getting sloppy, Vegeta! Come on, that's one of the first moves you learned!"

Bulma's head shot up when she heard that. Vegeta looked positively furious while Nappa had a smug smirk on his face. He successfully caught Vegeta in a chokehold, lifting the smaller saiyan off the ground and squeezing tighter the more he struggled. Had her question just been answered? Was Nappa the one who taught Vegeta how to fight? It didn't seem possible. Nappa didn't have a brain in his head. He couldn't possibly have anything to teach Vegeta. Bulma pushed that thought aside. 'He knows fighting. I've seen what he can do. He had Vegeta backed into a corner a few times. They seem to have a stronger relationship than Raditz has with either of them. Maybe there's more to him than I thought.'

'It doesn't matter. He hates me anyway. He'd never teach me anything he taught Vegeta.' Bulma sighed and rested her chin on her knees. She was giving up on herself, Vegeta was to the point of giving up on her, and she was still weak. She could keep training with Chi-Chi to stay at the top of her game, but she was ready to quit her sessions with Vegeta. It wasn't worth it. She was wasting his time. He was the one who really needed to get stronger anyway. He was the one who was going to take on the creature reputed to be the most powerful being in the universe.

Their spar lasted another few minutes before Vegeta finally managed to knock Nappa out. Bulma stood up and walked over to him, her decision made. "That was a good fight. So I've been thinking. I don't think you should train me anymore."

Vegeta's eyebrow rose. "Why?"

She shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest. "It's not like I'm getting anywhere. You're wasting your time. I'll keep training with Chi-Chi, but I don't think it's worth the bother."

Vegeta couldn't disagree. For the past two months she had been stuck at the same power level. Her reflexes had improved over time, but her speed and strength had stagnated. Practice with the harpy would be enough to sharpen her reflexes further. Besides, what frustrated him more than anything in their training was his own inability to hold back enough. Since Dr. Brief gave him the gravity room to train in, his strength had doubled. He kept inadvertently hurting her in their training; the bruises covering her arms and legs were proof of that. He was afraid he might accidentally injure her more severely, causing hemorrhaging or breaking bones. She was too fragile to train with him any longer.

"You're sure?" he asked.

She nodded slightly and looked down at the ground. "Yeah."

"Very well."

Bulma dug her toe into the dirt, not wanting to look up and make eye contact with him. She was ashamed and embarrassed for giving up. She figured he was probably thinking what a coward she was. "So should we take Nappa to the infirmary?"

"He'll be fine." Vegeta nudged him with his toe. He groaned. Considering that proof enough, Vegeta turned around and headed for the gravity room. "I have training to do."

"Like always," Bulma muttered. She watched as he crossed the lawn and disappeared inside the gravity room. It wasn't much, just a domed building with one large room. There was a gravity console inside that could go up to 75Gs by increments of five, which was why she couldn't use it. It jumped from 1G to 5Gs. The room had no windows except on the door, so watching Vegeta train wasn't fun or easy. All she knew was that he was in there more often than not; the low hum of the gravity simulator lulled her to sleep and it was still going when she woke up. Whether or not he slept was anybody's guess. She frowned and went inside to work in her lab.

…

Krillin stopped at the door and knocked three times. He stepped back and waited for someone to open the door. A minute went by before it flew open and a very angry woman stood on the threshold, brandishing a frying pan at him. He held up his hands defensively. "Hey, Chi-Chi, how are you?"

Chi-Chi looked down at the short man and immediately relaxed, much to his relief. "Oh, it's you, Krillin. Come in."

He followed her inside and closed the door behind him. "Where's Goku and Gohan?"

Scowling, Chi-Chi beat her frying pan against the palm of her hand. "Training," she spat. "Goku's sparring with that – that _brother_ of his, and Gohan is out with that Piccolo creep."

Krillin rubbed his head and whistled. "Wow, never thought they'd get along so well, huh?" He frowned as he sat down at the kitchen table. He nervously looked around the small room. There was a large pot of rice on the stove and so much sushi on the counter it made him lose any appetite he may have had. "I don't understand how Goku can forgive that guy after what he did."

"Oh, he insists he's not so bad," Chi-Chi said snidely. "I think he's a monster! He's the reason my poor Goku died and he kidnapped Gohan and – and – now I never see either my son or my husband because they're always training!" She broke down in a fit of sobs and collapsed in the chair across the table from Krillin.

"He probably feels obligated to give him a chance because they're brothers," Krillin reasoned. "But what kind of brother kidnaps your kid, kills you and your friend, and tries to take you away to kill people? I'm not a saiyan, but I'm more of a brother to Goku than he'll ever be. I grew up with him! And now when I come to visit he's not even around."

"But what about my Gohan?" Chi-Chi moaned. "He's getting behind in his studies and Goku keeps letting him go with Piccolo to train. He's just a little boy, he doesn't need to be a hero!"

Krillin shuddered, thinking about Piccolo. They were supposedly on the same side now, but it was hard to forget the past. Back before Raditz came, Piccolo was the big bad guy, Goku's rival, the guy who wanted to take over the world and kill everyone. Now, he was an ally. He spent a whole year training Gohan in the wilderness, and all of a sudden he's a good guy? It didn't seem likely. But he did genuinely seem to care about Gohan, and through that relationship he tolerated Goku and the rest of their gang.

"I guess Gohan thinks of him as a big, green uncle, huh?" Krillin sighed and started wringing his hands in his lap. His friendly visit was turning out to be an utter failure. He could at least try to cheer Chi-Chi up, but he was sitting there wallowing in misery along with her.

Chi-Chi sniffled and shook her head. "I always wanted Gohan to be a scholar, not a brainless muscle-head like his father. And now I can't even get him to stay inside long enough to do his homework."

Her guest shrugged. He didn't care much about Gohan's studies, but he did feel a little hurt that Gohan had grown so close to Piccolo. He still didn't trust the Namekian, and he doubted he would ever really learn to like him. As Goku's best friend, he should be the man Gohan looked up to as a sort of uncle. Granted, he didn't come around too often to visit and Goku was notoriously bad at keeping in contact with any of his friends, but it was the principle of the matter. Krillin hadn't gotten to know Gohan very well, but he wanted to. It had been a shock when he found out Goku was a father, but the shock had worn off and now he wanted to spend time with his best friend and his son. Instead, they were both out training with two of the people that were supposed to be their sworn enemies. It just didn't make any sense.

Chi-Chi stood up and went to the stove to finish preparing the meal. "Why don't you stay for lunch, Krillin? Goku and Gohan should be coming in soon."

"Sure, if it's not too much trouble."

"I insist." She opened a cupboard and pulled out a tall stack of dishes to start setting the table. "It'll be nice to have some human company."

Krillin laughed nervously and got up to help her wish the dishes. "Is it really that bad?"

She sneered as she slammed a bowl down on the table. "Goku keeps inviting Raditz for lunch. He knows we can't afford to feed two and a half saiyans, but he doesn't care! I spend all day cooking and I never even get a thank you! At least Piccolo doesn't eat anything. He just sits in the corner meditating or something while the rest of us eat."

"Gosh, Chi-Chi, I'm sorry," Krillin said.

"It's not your fault." Chi-Chi sighed and leaned against the counter. "I just don't trust him, Krillin."

"Which one?" he joked.

She glowered at the floor. "Both of them. They're not a good influence on Gohan."

Krillin nodded. He pulled an extra chair over to the table and sat down again. What could he say to console Chi-Chi? Her concerns were valid. But he also knew Goku well enough to know that he wouldn't hold a grudge and he would put his trust in his former enemies as if they had never done anything wrong. Goku was a great guy, but he was too quick to trust.

"I know!" Chi-Chi shouted excitedly. She ignored Krillin falling out of his chair in surprise. "You're right, Krillin. You're Goku's best friend and practically a brother. Why don't you just come to visit more often? You can train with Goku and maybe even Gohan instead of Piccolo and Raditz. Maybe they'll take the hint that they're not wanted and leave us alone."

Rubbing his head, Krillin got back up in his chair and winced in pain. He was definitely going to have a bump there. "I'd love to visit more, but I live a long way away."

Chi-Chi's eyes narrowed as she fixed an angry glare on him. "Well you can fly!" she screamed. "I might not want Gohan to be a fighter, but at least you're better than those other monsters! You are _going_ to come around more often and be the _uncle_ you should be!"

Krillin fell out of his chair, this time backwards when he scrambled to avoid Chi-Chi's wrath. Sometimes he was sure she was scarier than any enemy he would ever face. "Okay, Chi-Chi, okay, calm down! I'll come every few days!"

The brunette smirked, quite satisfied with herself, and crossed her arms over her chest. "That's better. But if I hear you're putting any ideas into Gohan's head about becoming a martial artist you'll be sorry."

He swallowed hard and got up, picked up his chair, and sat down again. He wondered how he always got himself into these messes. At least he would get to see Goku and Gohan more often. Guiltily, he thought he should have visited them more all along, but he made the excuse of distance and a busy schedule and never dropped by. Maybe he didn't deserve to consider himself a sort of brother to Goku. He dismissed that thought. Of course he did! He was with him through some of the craziest adventures and hardest training of their lives. He was there like a brother should be, not flying around in space blowing up planets and killing people. He smiled and nodded in agreement to his thoughts. He was going to be the best brother and uncle he could be.

…

Vegeta paced restlessly back and forth through the kitchen. His tail flicked agitatedly behind him, the only other sign of his foul mood. He was impatiently waiting for Mrs. Brief to finish what she was doing so she accompany him to the Capsule Corporation headquarters building. She didn't seem to understand the urgency of his trip to see Dr. Brief in the middle of the day. He tried explaining it, but as usual she brushed it off as if it were nothing.

Sure, he _could_ go on with his training without the use of the gravity room, but that would be time wasted when Dr. Brief could make a quick repair and get it operating again. Vegeta raked his hand through his hair, wishing he had learned how to fix the gravity console himself so he wouldn't be stuck in these situations, depending on Dr. Brief or Bulma to come help him out. When the console broke, he automatically went to Bulma's lab to demand she get it running again within the hour, but he found that she wasn't there, having again gone to headquarters on some order of business he didn't understand or care about. So, he resorted to going to Mrs. Brief to inquire about how to find them in the headquarters building. He was further slowed down in his mission when he was told that he wouldn't have access to all the floors and wings in headquarters, and, since her husband and daughter could be anywhere, she would go with him to grant him access. Even if they were just in their office suites, he wouldn't be able to get the elevator doors to open on their floors.

Vegeta felt like kicking someone around for the inconvenience, but his sparring partner, Nappa, fled the scene as soon as the console was busted. He quickly explained as he ran out of the gravity room that he was going to go train alone in the wilderness for a few days and not to bother trying to find him. Vegeta had been so distracted by the black smoke pouring out of the console that he hadn't paid his bodyguard much mind, more concerned about the whole console being destroyed if there were a fire. Luckily, there hadn't been. But now he was without a sparring partner and he didn't have a gravity room to train in. He was spoiled by the high gravity he had been training under; to use the yard or indoor garden as a temporary training facility until Bulma or Dr. Brief got home was unacceptable.

And so he waited for Mrs. Brief. She continued puttering around the kitchen, making sure things would be ready so she could start dinner as soon as she got home from their little excursion. He couldn't care less if dinner was served right on time. What he cared about was getting his gravity room up and running. "Come on, woman!"

"Just a minute, Vegeta," she said, unperturbed, as she closed a cupboard. "I'll be ready soon."

He groaned and considered bashing his head against the wall, but he decided that wouldn't do anything to help get her moving faster, so he refrained. But true to her word, she was ready a minute later. She giggled as she left the kitchen and grabbed her purse from the hall closet. "I don't see what the big hurry is."

"Just go," he snapped. He gently pushed her out the front door and slammed it closed behind him. She went to the driveway, digging around in her purse to find her car capsule, but Vegeta was tired of wasting time and scooped her up in his arms to carry her to headquarters.

"Oh my!" she gasped. She wrapped her arms around his neck. "I've never flown before!"

He rolled his eyes, and a few seconds later they were already landed on the front walk of the headquarters building. He set Mrs. Brief down and gestured for her to lead the way inside. They walked in the front door and were immediately greeted by the receptionist at the front desk. Mrs. Brief grinned and said hello to the receptionist and was about to strike up a friendly conversation when Vegeta's tail coiled around her wrist and pulled her toward the elevators.

"Oh my Kami, it's one of the aliens! The ones who attacked East City!"

"What? Where?"

"You're right! What's he doing here?"

Vegeta cringed as shouts and screams of fear erupted around him. He hadn't paid attention to the humans in the lobby area, but apparently he drew their attention and they recognized him from the television broadcast of his fight with the earthling warriors before Nappa killed the news crews. Within a few seconds he was feeling nauseous from the scent of fear in the air, and his ears were ringing from the sounds of panic.

Mrs. Brief was confused for a few moments before she got her wits about her. She spun around on her heel and planted her hands on her hips, a fierce scowl on her face. "That's enough!" she yelled. Silence followed. No one had ever heard the gentle wife of Dr. Brief raise her voice before, and no one had ever seen her do anything but smile. It was terrifying, more than seeing one of the evil space aliens at her side walking casually through their workplace.

The saiyan gaped at Mrs. Brief, astonished that she was able to create order out of chaos so easily. The tiny, frail little woman must hold some sort of power over them or they would have gone on screaming their heads off. He felt pride swelling in his chest when he saw the furious expression on her face. He smirked at the people in the lobby.

"Honestly!" Mrs. Brief continued, disgusted. "You're acting like a bunch of children. I don't want any of you ever mentioning that again, do you hear me?"

Many of the people standing around nodded dumbly, but they still looked horrified. Mrs. Brief huffed and turned around to push the button next to the elevator. They only had to wait a few seconds before the door of one of the elevators slid open. There was a pair of scientists discussing notes on some project who stepped off once they reached the main floor. One of them looked up, and, recognizing Vegeta, started to panic. He pulled on his colleague's sleeve and stammered, trying to come up with the words that wouldn't form in his mouth.

"Don't say it," one of the women standing in the lobby hissed. The man turned to face her, then looked where she was pointing (at Mrs. Brief) and nodded. He and the other scientist hurried out of the way.

Mrs. Brief and Vegeta stepped onto the elevator and the doors closed behind them. She pushed the button that would take them to the floor with Dr. Brief's office suite. Her scowl melted into a cheerful smile. "I'm sorry about that, Vegeta. I didn't think people would recognize you from that old newscast."

"Hn."

The elevator stopped at Dr. Brief's floor, but the door didn't open. Mrs. Brief put her finger on a small scanner, and then the door slid open. She stepped off the elevator with Vegeta right behind her. "Sweetie? Are you here?" she asked when she didn't see her husband sitting at his desk.

"I'm over here."

Mrs. Brief walked around to the kitchenette. "Oh, there you are."

Dr. Brief turned around, holding a cup of hot tea in one hand and a cigarette in the other. "What a pleasant surprise. What brings you here, dear?"

She beckoned Vegeta over when she noticed he hadn't followed her. He was busy looking around the office suite and sniffing the air that was filled with the stale stench of cigarette smoke. He walked over to the kitchenette when he saw Mrs. Brief motioning him over.

"Vegeta wanted to see you," Mrs. Brief said once the saiyan was at her side.

Seeing his surrogate son, Dr. Brief snubbed out his cigarette and waved the lingering smoke away until it was sucked up into an air filter. "Vegeta? What did you need? Is everything all right with the gravity room?"

Vegeta's nose wrinkled when he smelled the cigarette, but he didn't comment on it. "It's broken. I need you to fix it."

"Broken?" Dr. Brief asked incredulously. "That thing was built to be darn near indestructible, and that's the third time it's busted!"

The tip of Vegeta's tail twitched. "Indestructible by human standards. It cannot withstand the power of two full-blooded saiyans." He felt a bit of pride in his ability to destroy something that wasn't supposed to be destructible, but he was too irritated by the inconvenience to think much about his 'accomplishment.'

Dr. Brief sighed and sipped his tea. "I'll take a look at it when I get back to the compound."

Vegeta's tail twitched again, more perceptibly. He crossed his arms over his chest to hide the fact that his hands were clenched into fists. "I can't wait that long," he ground out.

"I'm sorry, son," Dr. Brief said, "but I can't just leave work to fix your gravity room. I have things I need to get done here that are just as important. You can train in the yard until then. How badly broken is it?"

"Bad."

"Oh, dear." Dr. Brief took another lengthy drink of tea. "I'll try to have it done tonight, but I can't make any guarantees. I'll have to see the extent of the damage first."

"You will have it done tonight," Vegeta growled. He was out of patience. It was bad enough that he was being forced to wait until later; he was not about to wait another day to have it done. He didn't care if Dr. Brief had to stay up all night working on it, he would have it done. He needed to keep pushing himself in his training!

"We'll see." The old scientist shrugged and had another sip of tea. He was used to Vegeta's demands, impatience, and tantrums. He'd seen and heard enough not to feel threatened or offended by them. "Now then, was that all you needed to talk to me about?"

Vegeta nodded, turning away to return to the elevator. If he couldn't use the gravity room, then he was going to hurry back to the compound to train as long as he could outside. The natural conditions of the planet were not nearly as conducive to strength gains as the gravity room, so he had to use every minute he had.

"Wait!" Mrs. Brief called out after him. "Honey, don't you think you should get Vegeta some kind of identification so he can access everywhere? I don't think he'll want me to have to come along with him every time he wants to visit you at work."

"Yes, I suppose that would be a good idea. Full access is normally only granted to Capsule Corporation employees, but I do make an exception for family." Dr. Brief nodded to himself as he shuffled across his office suite to his desk and sat down. He started typing a message to his security staff. "Honey, you know where to find the corporation security office is, don't you?"

Mrs. Brief tapped her chin as she tried to remember. "It's on the main floor, isn't it? Behind the reception desk?"

"Yes, dear." Dr. Brief sent the message and picked up his mug for another sip of tea. "I've just sent them a message regarding Vegeta gaining full access to our facilities. They should receive it by the time you get there. They'll be ready to get him entered into the system."

"Thank you." Mrs. Brief went around the oversized desk and kissed her husband's cheek. "We'll see you for dinner."

"Very good." He turned to a stack of papers on his desk and started flipping through them.

Mrs. Brief grabbed Vegeta's arm on her way over to the elevator. "This is wonderful, sweetie. You'll be able to go anywhere in the building without anyone bothering you."

"Why would I want to?" he grumbled. Vegeta had no interest in wandering through headquarters. Getting back to the compound to train was a much higher priority on his list.

They heard the elevator ding and then the door slid open. It was empty, so they stepped on and Mrs. Brief pushed the button to take them down to the main floor. "Now don't be silly, honey. You have as much right to be here as anyone. You're part of the family and this is a family-owned company." That settled, Mrs. Brief folded her hands and waited for the elevator to reach the main floor.

Ding! Vegeta's lip curled at the sound. He was all too happy to get off the elevator when the door opened. He still didn't like it, even if he was with someone he trusted. He headed straight for the exit, but Mrs. Brief caught his arm and pulled him back to another office. She pushed him through the door and closed it once they were inside.

"Excuse me, ma'am," a man wearing a gray uniform said as he squeezed past her to leave the office. As he went by his hand brushed against her backside.

"Oh!" Mrs. Brief jumped and turned around, glaring at the security guard, but he was already going out the door.

Well, he was before Vegeta grabbed him by the throat and pinned him against the door. The man screamed, catching the attention of all the other security guards who were milling about the office. When they heard Mrs. Brief and saw what was happening, they jumped to conclusions about the man who was assaulting a guard. Within seconds they had him surrounded and were trying to pry his hand off the man's throat.

"Oh! Oh, Vegeta, let him go!" Mrs. Brief's voice somehow managed to rise about the commotion.

Vegeta snarled as he released the man and stepped back from him. Every muscle in his body was tense, ready to pounce on him if he tried to touch Mrs. Brief again. He positioned himself between the offending man and Mrs. Brief while she tried to calm all the other guards down.

"I'm sorry, boys," Mrs. Brief said, "He didn't mean to alarm anyone. But I would like that man to submit his letter of resignation immediately."

"You have no right!" he yelled.

She put her hands on her hips and frowned at him. "Do you _know_ who I am?"

"Yeah, some dumb broad."

"That's Mrs. Brief to you," she snipped. She huffed and spun around to address the chief. "My husband sent you a message about entering Vegeta into the security system. He is to gain full access to every facility at Capsule Corporation."

The chief pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed at the sweat on his brow as he collapsed into the chair behind his desk. "Y-you want _him_ to – to –"

"To have full access," Mrs. Brief finished. Smiling, she sat in one of the empty chairs on the other side of his desk and crossed her ankles.

"But—but, Mrs. Brief, this—this _man_, he's a—"

"Member of the Briefs family so he has the right to be given full access." Her smiled widened, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Vegeta, won't you have a seat?"

Vegeta sneered at the chief as he stiffly took a seat in the chair next to Mrs. Brief. He really couldn't care less about being able to move about freely in the headquarters building, but at this point he was going to let them enter him into the system for the sake of spiting the security personnel.

The chief cleared his throat and opened the program on his computer to create an employee profile. "Ok, we'll, uh, we'll just need some basic information."

Mrs. Brief patted Vegeta's knee. "You just answer his questions, honey."

"Hn."

"Full name?"

"Vegeta."

"Brief," Mrs. Brief added.

"How do you spell that?"

"V-E-G-E-T-A," she answered.

The chief typed in Vegeta's name. "Current address?"

Vegeta looked over at Mrs. Brief for an answer. He had never paid attention to the address of the Capsule Corporation compound. Giggling, she answered, "WST 3338926 K."

"He, uh, he lives… with you? At the Capsule Corp compound?"

"Of course he does."

"Right." The chief coughed and entered the address. "I'm assuming the compound phone number?"

"Hn." Vegeta looked around the office, bored with his interview. There were guards standing around, many eyeing him warily. The majority of them were holding white Styrofoam cups filled with coffee, judging by the scent. The office was large, with desks scattered throughout, each with a computer and two chairs across from the people sitting at the desks. The walls were a drab gray with a few large framed pictures of scenery with a word and some sickeningly lame 'inspirational' quote underneath.

"And date of birth?"

Mrs. Brief lightly slapped Vegeta's arm to get his attention. He turned to look at her questioningly. "What?"

"What's your birthday, honey?"

Vegeta shrugged. "I don't know what the date was on Earth when I was born on Vegeta-sei."

"Oh." Mrs. Brief tapped her toe a few times. "What did we put down as your birthday when we filled out your paperwork at the doctor's? My, it's been such a long time."

"It was probably in January sometime," he said.

Mrs. Brief was willing to go along with that. "We'll say January 10. That's easy to remember."

"Hn."

"Whatever you say. We'll uh, we'll need to take your picture," the chief stammered. "For the ID card. So, if you'll stand right over here, please." He indicated an X on the floor in front of a plain blue backdrop.

Rolling his eyes, Vegeta stood up and walked over to stand on the X. He scowled at the camera and growled when it flashed, temporarily blinding him.

"And we'll need your fingerprint here," the chief said, pointing to a flat screen on his desk that would scan Vegeta's finger, storing it in the security system's memory.

Vegeta put his finger on the screen and watched as an image of his fingerprint appeared on the computer screen. He was surprised they still used fingerprints for identification. Many races employed more sophisticated means of identification that were much more difficult to fake or replicate. But, humans were still a little behind and they probably hadn't come up with very good ways to fake and replicate fingerprints anyway.

"Ok, Mr. Brief," the chief sighed as he sat down. "Your information should be processed within 24 hours."

"Just Vegeta."

"Er, of course, sir."

Vegeta snorted and walked around the desk to stand at Mrs. Brief's side. She smiled and politely thanked the chief for his time before guiding Vegeta out of the office. "There, now, that wasn't so bad, was it dear? This reminds me, we need to get you some sort of identification, like a birth certificate and a driver's license. That way you won't have to worry about proper documentation if you ever need it."

"Hn." Vegeta was in too much of a hurry to get back to the compound to bother listening to her ceaseless chatter. As soon as they were outside he picked her up and flew them home. It only took a minute for him to touch down in the front yard. He set Mrs. Brief down and walked around the compound to train.

Smoothing her hair into place, Mrs. Brief went inside to start dinner. Her trip to headquarters had taken a solid hour out of her afternoon and she had two hungry saiyans to feed. She turned the radio on and started singing along, not knowing or caring how she was constantly singing sharp or flat and missing half the words.

It was this scene that Bulma walked in on when she came home from work at headquarters. Her mother was dancing around the kitchen singing along with an old rock 'n' roll song while she moved around to mix up cupcake batter, cut up meat and vegetables, and toss a spinach salad. Bulma chuckled to herself as she picked out an apple from the bowl of fruit on the counter and sat at the table.

"Oh, hello, dear!" Mrs. Brief sang when she twirled around and saw her daughter.

"Hey, Mom." Bulma bit into her apple. "Why isn't Vegeta using the gravity room? I didn't hear it running when I came in."

"He had a little training accident this afternoon. Your father is going to try and fix it tonight. I think Vegeta is training out back."

"Really?" Bulma took another bit of her apple before adding sarcastically, "I didn't know he remembered he could train outside of that room."

"Now honey, I know you're lonely since all your friends are too busy training to visit with you—"

"I'm not lonely! Kami, Mother, I see Chi-Chi three times a week and Vegeta at almost every meal. It's not that big of a deal. I'm simply surprised that he's training outside. I guess there's not much else he can do if the gravity room is broken though. Maybe I should take a look at it."

"I'm sure he would appreciate it, dear."

Bulma finished her apple and threw the core away. "Too bad I won't do it. I think he _should_ take a break from training. I know he's determined to get stronger, but his body needs rest. Maybe not as much as a human, but he can't keep pushing himself like this without hurting himself eventually."

"He's a hard-working—"

"Young man, I know." Bulma rolled her eyes, tired of hearing the same excuse every time she brought up her concern for Vegeta's well-being with her mother. "But what good is that if he blows himself up in the gravity room because he's too tired to control his power?"

"It hasn't happened yet, dear."

"Key word: yet. It's bound to happen eventually. Maybe I can convince him to take the night off from training since the gravity room's closed for repairs." The blue-haired genius got up and walked out of the kitchen. She wanted to change into more comfortable clothes before dinner. Her mind was racing with ideas of how to get Vegeta to take a break from training.

'You'd think he'd know rest is as important as training. Maybe I'll just have to remind him. He never wants to do anything with me. He doesn't like TV or movies and he isn't interested in going anywhere in the city to have some fun.' Bulma closed the door to her bedroom and leaned against it. 'Maybe if I promise him upgrades in his gravity room in exchange for a night resting he'll give in. But what kind of upgrades? I'll have to have specifics or he won't believe me. Higher gravity? Maybe I can get it up to 100Gs. And maybe some bots that can reflect his ki so he can spar with them when Nappa's not with him.'

She smirked and nodded to herself. She had a good plan. Vegeta couldn't resist when offered upgrades to help his training. The only question was whether or not he would be willing to give up a _whole_ night of training to get those upgrades. Snorting, Bulma started pulling off her blazer and blouse on her way to her closet. If nothing else, she might be able to convince him to go to her lab with her to design his training bots. At least she could spend some quality time with him and get him to stop training for a few hours. His body might be able to recover at least a little bit from its constant strain.

Bulma put on a white t-shirt and a pair of jeans. She wasn't dressing to impress anybody, so she didn't care that she looked like a bum. She pulled her hair up into a ponytail and went back downstairs to relax in the living room until dinner. Let Vegeta have his training time until then. If he didn't get that, then he likely wouldn't want to give up his few precious hours of training time before bed. She tried to start thinking of some ideas for the bots, but she couldn't concentrate on it. She was too excited about the idea of actually getting to see Vegeta when he wasn't wolfing down an inhuman amount of food.

Vegeta was wolfing down an inhuman amount of food when Bulma cleared her throat and turned to face him. She had already finished eating and had her proposal all figured out. "So, Vegeta, since the gravity console is broken, I was thinking maybe you would take tonight off from training. I know you don't like 'wasting time,' but I have a deal for you. You don't train tonight, and I make some upgrades for the gravity room."

He didn't answer since he was still eating, but she could tell by the way he was looking at her without any particular condescension that she had his interest piqued. She continued, "I could make the gravity simulator go up to 100Gs and I was thinking of designing some training bots that could deflect your ki so you could sharpen your techniques when you train alone." She crossed her arms and finished, "But I won't make any upgrades if you train more tonight."

The saiyan prince grunted, then swallowed his mouthful of food. He turned back to his plate and resumed eating as if she had never said anything, which frustrated her. She didn't know if he was thinking it over or if that was his way of saying 'You're crazy. As if I would ever relinquish four hours of training, you stupid girl.'

He actually was thinking about it. He didn't want to admit it to anyone, but for the past three weeks he had been unable to get rid of the feeling of exhaustion weighing him down. He even started going to bed earlier at night, but it didn't seem to be enough to help. Perhaps a night off from training would be beneficial, and now he even had an excuse to do it without looking weak. At the same time, he _wanted_ to continue training. Not having his gravity room for half a day, maybe longer, was maddening. He could be making so much more progress under high gravity than he was able to make without it. If he was missing out on quality, could he also miss out on quantity? He didn't have time for any foolishness. On the other hand, if the girl could make the upgrades she mentioned, it might be worth losing a little training time. Higher gravity and bots would likely speed his progress even further. In the end, it was his need for _good _training that won out. He decided he would accept her offer so long as she didn't want to make him do something stupid all night.

When he was finished with his meal, he crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at his empty plate. "I will accept your proposal, girl. I will not train tonight if you can have those upgrades finished by the end of the week."

Bulma's jaw dropped. "By the end of the week? Vegeta, it's Thursday! I can't do that!"

"Then I will train tonight."

"But Vegeta!"

Vegeta stood up, his tail dropping from his waist and twitching behind him. He knew he was asking a lot of her. She was busy with her own obligations and the upgrades would take time to design, build, and test. But he didn't think his demand was unreasonable. She was perfectly capable of meeting his deadline if she put her mind to it. "Final offer, girl."

Bulma slammed her hand down on the table as she stood up. She stepped closer to him until their noses were almost touching. Poking him in the chest, she growled, "I'll do it, Veggie, because you think I can't. I'll prove I can. So take your ass to the recreation room and we'll have a nice, relaxing evening without even a single word about training. Got it?"

"Hn." Vegeta pushed past her, nearly knocking her back into her chair, and left the kitchen.

Bulma ran after him, catching up to him at the stairs. "So what do you want to do? I know you don't really like movies very much. Ok, actually, you don't really like doing much of anything if I remember correctly."

"I don't have time for your—"

"Foolish human entertainment. I know, I got it." Bulma sighed and led the way upstairs to the recreation room. "But there's lots to do. We have books to read, games to play, we got a pool table and video games. Or we could sit and talk about our feelings."

Vegeta stared at her, appalled that she would even suggest such a thing. He wasn't going _that_ soft. Luckily, she wasn't looking at him or she might have laughed at the incredulous expression on his face before he was able to mask it. "Idiot girl."

"Alright, then I guess it'll be up to me to pick." Bulma went into the rec. room and looked around at all the options. "Checkers is easy enough to explain. Go sit at that table."

Not particularly thrilled about the night ahead of him, Vegeta stalked over to the table near the balcony and sat down with his arms across his chest. He watched Bulma go over to a shelf and pick up a box that she carried over to the table. She set it on the table, sat down, and opened the box.

Inside was a game board with red and black squares and a bunch of red and black plastic discs that resembled oversized coins. He picked one up and bit it. His teeth easily sank into the material. He didn't like it. He tossed it back in the pile, ignoring the fact that Bulma was laughing at his antics.

"Hungry again already, Veggie?" she teased. "These aren't food. Here, you be black and I'll be red. You put them on the board like this." She started showing him how to set up the game, with the checkers being placed on all the black squares in the three rows on each side of the board. "So then one of us makes the first move. You have to move the checkers diagonally and always forward, one square at a time. You capture my checkers by jumping over them, and you can jump more than one in a single move. Once you get to the opposite side of the board, I have to crown your checker, and then you can move backwards or forwards. Okay?"

"What a stupid game."

"You go first," she said, ignoring his comment.

Vegeta pushed one of his checkers forward. Already convinced that it was going to be a terribly boring game, he was surprised when, a few moves into the game, he was actually strategizing how to move to keep Bulma from being able to jump over his checkers while making it so she had no choice but to move her checkers in such a way that he was able to jump over two or three at a time. Soon, every one of his checkers was crowned and she only had three left with only one king.

Bulma groaned as he jumped over her king. "You sure you never played this before?"

"Hn."

"I never liked checkers anyway." She moved one of her checkers forward, knowing he would jump it and leave her with only two.

He jumped over it and added it to the pile of red checkers at the side of the board. "Then why choose it to play?"

She shrugged. "Seemed like a good idea at the time." She jumped over one of his checkers and added it to the small pile of black checkers not in play. "But I was obviously mistaken."

"Only because you lost," he said as he jumped over her last two checkers.

"You don't have to rub it in."

"What? The fact that you're a failure?" Vegeta snorted and dumped the checkers back in their box. One game was enough. Another one would be exceedingly boring.

"You're a jerk."

"Hn."

"What does that even mean?" Bulma growled. She held up her hand when he was about to answer. "No, wait. I think I remember how it goes. Yes, no, I don't know, I don't care, or shut up, right?"

Vegeta smirked at the direct quote. Even after many years had passed she still remembered him telling her that. "Hn."

She shook her head, disgusted with his less than adequate reply, and stood up to take the checkers box back to the game shelf. "I don't even want to play any of these other games with you. You always beat me when we were kids. I doubt I'd have a chance now."

"Whatever." Vegeta looked out the balcony doors. It was still light outside. The next day would be the longest day of the year. Then it would be back to every day shortening until eventually there were more hours of dark than light. He had to admit he was looking forward to that time, even if it meant cold weather. He preferred night to day.

Bulma rested her hands on her hips as she considered which game to play next. She figured the only way she was going to have any fun with Vegeta was if she pushed aside her competitiveness and pick a game where they could work on something together instead of playing as opponents. She knew he was just as competitive as her, maybe more, and he had was a master strategist that left her feeling stupid and incompetent. Until she found something that she could strategize better in, she would be stuck losing to him, and she was already frustrated after one round of checkers with him. She picked out another box that rattled whenever she turned it as she carried it over to the table. She opened it and dumped the contents out.

Vegeta quirked an eyebrow when he saw what she brought over. He recognized the game as one she made him play with her a few times when they were younger. There were 144 tiles that could be arranged in a variety of ways and the goal was to match the tiles and remove them until there were none left. Mahjong solitaire, he thought was the correct name for it. "Why this?" he muttered.

"It's fun," she answered, perhaps too quickly. He looked at her suspiciously before he started helping her arrange the tiles into the turtle formation.

They spent the next two hours playing the game. It went slower since they weren't playing against each other. They spent more time talking than paying attention to the game. Well, Bulma talked more, anyway. She had a lot to say. Even though Vegeta had now been living at Capsule Corporation for over eight months, she hadn't had much time to catch up with him. She didn't mind too much that he didn't talk a whole lot. She knew by the way he looked at her and occasionally grunted that he was listening to what she said. She told him about how she had taken martial arts lessons at a dojo in the city, about how she met Goku and her adventures in finding the dragon balls, how their little gang came together, and how she trained with Master Roshi to learn how to use her ki. She told him about her rocky relationship with Yamcha, which he didn't seem as interested in hearing, and she told him about Goku's wedding, Gohan, and her engagement to Yamcha. When she reached the point where he and Nappa came, she went back and told him more about her time in school and college and her work at Capsule Corporation.

Vegeta felt some resentment as she babbled on about her life. She was pampered her whole life, always given everything she needed or wanted. Her biggest complaints were boredom and loneliness. He couldn't very well empathize. His life was in stark contrast to her own. He was rarely given anything besides the basic necessities of life, and many times even those were withheld from him. He spent the years traveling between planets, enduring beatings, killing billions of innocents, and fighting to survive. He believed he had every right to be resentful. But, at the same time, he was upset that he hadn't been on Earth with her. He abandoned her when she needed him most, when the only thing in the world she wanted was a friend. He hadn't been there to protect her when she went on her foolish adventures; if it hadn't been for Kakarrot, she might not even be alive. The guilt clawed at the back of his mind. He should have been there to protect her, to accompany her on her stupid travels to keep her out of trouble. He should have been there to beat up Yamcha when he hurt her, to kill Roshi when he took advantage of her, and to train her in martial arts better than the humans. More than resentment, he felt jealousy and remorse. He wished he could have been there for her. He wished he could have taken care of her, protected her. He knew he left with little choice, but it hurt nonetheless.

Bulma was still chattering away about her accomplishments at Capsule Corporation when he cleared his throat and stood up, leaving their game unfinished. He didn't want to listen to her tales anymore and he didn't want to face her for a while. He hated the way his emotions and instincts took control when he was with her. The pack instincts, driving him to lay his life down for her, were irritating him when he couldn't have done anything different in the past. Yes, he admitted to himself, he should have been there to oversee his pack all those years, but it just wasn't possible. Even now he had endangered them, which was why he was unwilling to let up in his training.

"Vegeta?" Bulma stood up and laid her hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You expect me to believe that?" she asked. "You're almost never fine when you say you are. What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

He shrugged off her hand and crossed the room, ready to make his exit. He turned the doorknob and paused. Closing his eyes, he whispered, "I wasn't there."

Quickly, he opened the door and strode out. Before Bulma could catch him he disappeared into his guestroom and locked the door behind him. She didn't know if he was going to bed or if he was just trying to get away from her, but either way she had no hope of getting him to open the door, so she went to her own room. She sighed as she sat down at her desk and opened a notebook to begin jotting notes and ideas for the gravity room upgrades.

'No, Vegeta, you weren't there,' she agreed. 'At least, not physically. But I don't know how I would have gotten through everything that I did if it weren't for you. You changed my life. You were like the brother I never had. I remembered everything you taught me. I've already forgiven you for leaving when you had to, why don't you forgive yourself?'

_A/N: Sheesh, everyone hates Nappa. Give the guy a break, he's just doing what he thinks is best for Vegeta. He's really not that bad, especially later. You'll love him. I know the chapters have been a bit fluffy lately, but does that explain the lack of reviews? Okay, I know I'm spoiled. You were giving me so many for a while that now, less than 25 seems like too few... I sincerely appreciate each review, but I do hope for more because, well, they just make me happy._

_Anyway, I wrote chapters 58 and 59 and now I'm ready to start 60. What else do I have to do besides write? I'm still jobless and now that I'm sore and sunburned from kayaking I have no desire to ever go outside again. And just for the record, I only fell in the river three times! Pretty hilarious, I admit._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	51. Provocation

Provocation

Vegeta stepped out of the gravity room and squinted in the bright summer sun. The blistering heat of the July afternoon wasn't unwelcome, but he was eager to get to the compound to get a cold drink. Since his daily shopping trip with Mrs. Brief, he had been training hard, pushing himself to his limits and beyond. Bulma's upgrades in the gravity room were good. He had already worked up to 90Gs and it would probably only be a day or two before he reached the maximum gravity the simulator could create. He figured it was time to demand another upgrade since the technical genius seemed so capable of making them. The bots, likewise, were an excellent addition to his training regimen. Nappa was having trouble keeping up with his gains in strength, so he couldn't train with him in the gravity room anymore because the gravity was too high for him to handle.

The prince stalked across the back yard of the compound, sweat trickling down his bare back and chest. Dinner would be served soon, so he wanted to grab a bottle of water from the kitchen and go upstairs to shower. It only took a few comments about the stench of his sweat from the blue-haired woman to convince him showering before meals was a good idea. He was incredibly insulted that she didn't like his scent. It wasn't his fault the air conditioning was broken in the gravity room and it was the middle of summer. Granted, he could allow Dr. Brief or Bulma to go in and fix it, but he didn't want to miss out on any training time. Besides, he didn't mind the heat. He was the prince of a desert species. He performed better in high temperatures. He attributed part of his quick gains in strength to the hot weather.

But, despite his gains, he was getting bored with his training routine. Every morning he rose before dawn to train without ki before breakfast. Then, after breakfast, he would run through his kata without ki until lunch. Immediately after lunch, he went with Mrs. Brief to the grocery store. When he returned, he would return to the gravity room to do more anaerobic exercises with ki and higher gravity until dinner. After dinner, he would move through his kata with ki and even higher gravity until he crashed sometime late at night. Then he would go to bed and rise early in the morning to repeat the routine. Aside from the shopping trips and the good meals and sleep, his days weren't passing much differently than they had when he was in space. After spending years doing the same thing over and over, he was getting tired of it. He needed some change, but only a change that would help him make further progress.

'Perhaps I could spar with Nappa more often,' he considered. He had thought of that often, but he preferred training in the highest gravity his body could endure, and since Nappa couldn't handle the same level, he gave up on training with him. Nappa still trained on his own in the yard or out in the wilderness, sometimes for days on end, but he wasn't making fast gains, if any at all. At least he wasn't getting weaker. 'Or perhaps Raditz. His training with Kakarrot has helped him become significantly stronger. He's beyond the level of a saiyan elite now.'

He paused as a sly smirk spread across his lips. 'Raditz is getting stronger because of Kakarrot, which means Kakarrot is stronger.' Chuckling to himself, he continued on in to the compound and stopped at the kitchen, grunting when Mrs. Brief greeted him as he grabbed a water bottle out of the refrigerator. He twisted the cap off and downed the water in three long gulps, then threw the bottle away and left the kitchen to go upstairs to shower.

After his shower, Vegeta put on fresh boxers, a pair of black shorts, and a dark gray sleeveless shirt. He went downstairs and headed for the kitchen where all the heavenly smells were coming from. Inside he found everyone already seated around the table waiting for him. Dr. Brief was reading his newspaper and Bulma was flipping through a magazine. Mrs. Brief was serving food onto the plates, and Nappa and Raditz were eyeing the food hungrily. Nappa didn't look like he had been training hard that day, but Raditz was covered in burns and bruises. His right eye was swollen shut and his knuckles were bloody.

Vegeta sat down. "Kakarrot beat you in a spar again?"

Raditz sighed and nodded. "Yeah. He grows faster than me. I don't get it."

"Hn." Vegeta smirked again as he started digging into the pile of food on his plate. So Kakarrot was still besting Raditz in every one of their matches. Pathetic.

When Vegeta stood up to go resume his training after finishing dinner, Bulma stood up with him and followed him out of the kitchen, stopping him when he reached the door. "Vegeta? Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Rolling his eyes, he rested his hand on the doorknob, silently telling her he wasn't willing to stay and chat long.

Bulma bit her lip, wondering how to begin. She noticed over the past couple weeks that Vegeta seemed…off. Whereas he used to seem to almost enjoy training, he now seemed less and less enthusiastic about it every day. He didn't linger longer in the kitchen after meals and he didn't go to bed any earlier or get up later, but she could tell that he was more reluctant to go train. As concerned as she was about his compulsive training obsession, she was becoming more concerned about his lack of interest. It wasn't like him. He seemed almost – almost depressed.

She decided he would know if she was going at the issue indirectly, so she decided to come out and ask what was on her mind. "Vegeta, are you okay? You've been acting weird lately."

He stared at her for a moment, then scoffed and opened the door. "Stupid girl. I'm fine."

Bulma followed him out the door, unwilling to give up. She knew something was bothering him and she was determined to find out what. "Listen, maybe you've been training too much, that's all. I can tell you don't enjoy it anymore."

He could have laughed. He didn't train for fun. He trained because he needed to get stronger. "I don't have time for breaks, girl. Even if what you said is true, if you haven't forgotten, Frieza is going to be coming in less than a year and a half and I need to be ready for him."

She ran around him and stood in his path, blocking his way to the gravity room. "Vegeta, stop. Seriously, are you depressed or something? Because if you are, I'm not letting you train until you feel better. I'll disable the gravity simulator."

"Depressed?" he spat. "I'm not depressed! And if you so much as try to interfere with my training, girl, I will make you sorry. Besides, I would be able to override your meddling."

"What are you going to do?" she asked, planting her hands firmly on her hips. "Kill me?"

"Girl…"

"Honestly, Vegeta! I'm just worried about you. And if you've figured out how to override our overrides, then I'll – I'll take out the power core and hide it where you'll never find it!"

"You wouldn't dare."

"I would too! And I will unless you tell me what's bothering you."

He bared his teeth. "_Nothing_ is bothering me. Stop nosing around in my business."

"Oh, so something is there to nose around in!"

Vegeta's hands clenched into fists at his sides. He looked down at the ground, forcing himself to take deep breaths to calm down. He scowled at her shadow, just as insolent as her, standing there, stretched across the ground with hands on hips and head cocked to the side. Wait, shadow? The sun set a while ago. He turned around and looked up at the sky. The moon was already out, almost full. His tail uncoiled from his waist and flicked erratically behind him. He heard his pulse rushing in his ears.

Bulma followed his gaze when he suddenly turned away and gasped when she saw the moon. It was so close to being full she might have thought it was. She looked down when she saw movement as his tail continued flicking and twitching like it had a life of its own. She swallowed hard. She'd seen Goku's tail do that before. Right before he… before he transformed into a giant ape monster thing.

"V-Vegeta?" she squeaked. "You okay?"

He whirled around, a feral snarl curling his lip, revealing abnormally long canines. "I told you I'm fine!" he shouted.

Bulma backed away from him as he started advancing on her, slowly, smoothly, like a predator. "Vegeta? Stop it, you're kind of scaring me."

The primal instinct was clouding his mind. He needed to fight, to hunt, to battle. His heightened senses easily picked up on the trace of fear as he stepped closer to Bulma. It made the animal inside claw to escape. So close, he was so close to being able to transform. He wanted it, but it was just out of reach. It was enraging. "You want to know what my problem is?"

She shook her head quickly. "No, not at all. You don't have to tell me anything."

"My problem," he said, pausing to flick his tongue over his canine, "is that I have gone _far_ too long without killing. I train every fucking day, but I never get to _kill_ a real opponent."

She looked into his eyes, the eyes of a madman with dilated pupils and burning embers of fury. "Very – very funny, Vegeta."

"Hilarious, I'm sure."

Bulma found herself backed up against the door to the gravity room. Vegeta leaned in, bracing his arms against the wall on either side of her, leaving her with no escape. Her fear turned into anger when she saw the mocking glint in his eyes. "You can't kill anyone, Vegeta. And even if you could, why would you? You're not a monster!"

Vegeta's expression darkened. That word, it cut him deeply. "A monster?" he whispered. "You think I'm not a monster?"

"Well, maybe you are if you _want_ to kill. Honestly, Vegeta, what the hell is wrong with you?" Bulma put her hands on his chest and shoved him away.

He growled. "Stupid brat! What do you know about me?"

"Nothing, obviously!" She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "What's your problem? I'm worried about you because you're acting weird and you throw it in my face!"

"I never asked for your concern!"

"Fine!" she screamed. "Then go on being depressed, I don't care!"

Maybe it was her words that hurt, maybe it was his boredom that made him want an outlet for his anger and energy, or maybe it was the primal power coursing through him. Maybe it was a combination thereof. Whatever the reason, Vegeta lost control of himself. His power erupted around him, rapidly increasing until a blazing fire of ki surrounded his body, rising high into the air and dissipating into the atmosphere. He snarled as he again advanced on her, pinning her against the gravity room, not caring that his aura was burning her.

"You should learn to keep that big mouth of yours shut."

Bulma cringed in pain, but she was unwilling to back down. "Oh, really? Well you should learn how to accept it when someone cares about you! You big jerk, get the hell out of here!"

"You want me to leave?" he growled.

"I said," she roared, "Get! Out!"

Rejection. Despite the rage burning inside, her words cut deeply. She had reached the end of her rope with him. She wasn't going to put up with him any longer. She wanted him to leave. His expression slipped into its schooled stoicism as he stepped away from her. And though his face gave away nothing, she caught a quick flash of pain in his eyes that was immediately extinguished.

"Fine. I'll leave," he snarled. He flared up his ki and blasted into the sky to find somewhere more secluded. He stopped his flight when he reached an area that must have been a forest at one time. It was nothing but a pile of ashes and cinders now, with blackened tree trunks and branches sticking up from the black, scorched ground. He dropped out of the sky, the ash puffing up in the air around his feet when he landed.

He clenched his hands into fists and concentrated on his ki, the way it coursed through his veins. He lost himself in the rhythm of its ebb and flow, like a river winding through every fiber of his being, strengthening him, energizing him. He found it with practiced ease, in less than a second of time, but it felt like eternity to him. The ki was constant, timeless, his very being. And once he found it, he could raise it, pull it in from the air around him, expand the ki until it swelled through his body, so much that his body could not contain it all and it erupted around him in a fiery aura of raw power. He growled at first, then roared as the energy grew until he felt he would be consumed by it. And still it increased.

The ground cracked and shook around him; the dead trees crashed to the ground in the earthquake, and more fell as his energy gusted around him like a great wind, blowing up the ash in a cloud around him, making him invisible from the outside. Still his power soared, higher and higher, to unchartered heights for a saiyan. It stung, but at the same time it was invigorating, like a shockingly cold splash of water on a hot summer day. Sparks of electricity crackled through the air, surrounding his body like a lightning storm. Clouds overhead gathered above him, darkening until rain began to fall across the barren land. He laughed as his power rose, laughed until he could hardly breathe. Never had he felt such power before. He felt unstoppable, invulnerable. It was glorious.

…

Goku shot out of bed minutes after retiring when he felt it. That power, it was incredible. It almost hurt his senses when he felt it. He winced when it continued skyrocketing and rubbed his forehead with his hands. Groaning, he took a few steps across the room, but his knees felt shaky and he nearly collapsed to the floor. The power was too overwhelming. It was unreal. He had never felt anything like it before in his life.

Chi-Chi threw the covers off when she felt her husband abruptly get out of bed. "Goku? Is something wrong? Is it Gohan?"

He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. "No, Chi, Gohan's fine. But I feel some huge power level. I don't know who it is."

She got out of bed and padded over to her husband, wrapping her arms around his waist and nuzzling into his back. "It's probably one of your friends, Goku. That's all. You know they're all training for this Frieza guy."

His eyes snapped open wide. "I don't know, Chi. It feels way too high to be anyone we know." He gently removed her arms and hurried over to the closet to get a gi. He threw it on and rushed out of the small house to go find out who was raising their power so high. The more he concentrated on it, the more sure he became that it was, in fact, someone he knew. Someone he knew and didn't trust. Vegeta.

Raditz told him once that Vegeta would sometimes raise his power to his maximum to see how much progress he'd made in his training. Goku had felt him do it a few times, and each time he did he was amazed at how much his power had grown. Vegeta's power seemed to know no limit. He worked to catch up and close the distance between their power levels, but the power he was feeling now was staggering. He might have brushed off the fact that Vegeta was powering up as he had done before, but unlike the other times, his power didn't slip back down to its normal level a couple minutes after peaking. Either Vegeta was fighting or he was planning on fighting – or something much worse. Goku forced himself on faster, desperate to reach the saiyan prince and see what was going on.

…

Vegeta unclenched his fists and breathed a satisfied sigh. The power was making him lose his rationality, his mind clouded with a primal desire for blood and battle. He looked up at the sky as the ash settled around him, the rain pattering against his face, trickling through his thick mane and soaking through his earthling clothes. His tail unwrapped from his waist and twitched behind him. He thought he finally understood what Nappa meant when he told him power was the most real thing in the universe. There was nothing more absolute. He stood still, losing himself to his senses; the smell of the wet ash, the sound of the rain on the soft ground, the feel of the cold water coating his body, the sight of the dark clouds above, and the sweet, sweet taste of power.

He felt a high power moving toward him. He smirked and raised his arms to his sides, feeling his own energy pumping through every muscle fiber, empowering him. Sensing power levels, once he learned of the technique, was easy to acquire. He taught himself in less than a day when it took Raditz and Nappa each weeks to master it. It always took them longer to pick up on new techniques. He figured it was because of his superior breeding. It wouldn't be long before someone came to instigate a fight he was more than willing to engage in.

He wasn't surprised when Goku touched down a few yards from him, fists clenched and on edge, ready to power up if need be. Vegeta looked indifferent, but he was just as alert and prepared to defend himself from a sudden attack.

When he wasn't acknowledged, Goku took a step forward, his heavy boot sinking deep into the soft, wet ash. "What are you doing out here, Vegeta?"

Vegeta snorted and turned his back on Goku, nonverbally telling him he wasn't worthy to be considered a threat. "I don't have to answer to you, Kakarrot."

Goku took another step forward, quietly growling at the insult. If he had a tail it would have been twitching with agitation when he saw Vegeta turn away from him. "Look, I don't want to start a fight, but I want to know why you're here. It's late. Shouldn't you be back at Capsule Corporation?"

"If you didn't want to start a fight you shouldn't have come here," Vegeta hissed. "And how dare you presume I have any reason to be anywhere near that infernal woman."

"What woman?" Goku asked. "You mean Bulma? What's she got to do with anything?"

The prince whirled around, a snarl curling his lip. "It does not concern you, Kakarrot. You had better leave before I tire of your incessant questions. It's been a long time since I've had a decent battle, and killing you is just what I need." He shifted into his fighting stance. "Not that you could offer me a good challenge, third-class. But at least you would make a good punching bag."

Goku's ki flickered as he tried to keep it in check. He wasn't eager to get into a fight with Vegeta. His power was incredible and he had no doubt that any fight, even if it were over something trivial, could end badly, maybe even with a casualty. Still, he sank into his stance across from Vegeta. "I wouldn't be so sure about that. Fighting me wouldn't be easy."

"I'm sure." Vegeta spat on the ground between them. "Cut the small talk, Kakarrot. You came for a fight, so fight me. You might even last five minutes."

His opponent's confidence was enough to make his own shake. Goku didn't know if he was as strong as Vegeta. Probably not. But he did have the Kaio-ken technique that could instantly multiply his strength and speed in short bursts. It hadn't worked well against Vegeta in their first battle, but now that he was stronger and faster without it, perhaps it would give him some leverage in a fight against the saiyan prince.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Goku asked condescendingly. "You wouldn't have a chance against me."

Vegeta snorted. "The Prince of all Saiyans not have a chance against a weakling, third-class, tailless disgrace? You've got to be kidding."

Goku was not raised as a saiyan, so he did not understand the concept of 'saiyan pride.' Still, he did not appreciate his strength being underestimated, if not outright insulted. Vegeta's taunts were starting to wear on his patience. His ki started rising, slowly at first, then like an explosion it flooded through him until he was engulfed in a flame of energy.

Vegeta was somewhat surprised by the other saiyan's level of power; though he knew it was higher than both Raditz and Nappa, he wasn't expecting what he felt. His expression revealed nothing, but the tip of his tail started flicking in anticipation of a good fight. His own power exceeded 200,000 now, but Kakarrot was not far behind, his power hovering around 150,000.

"Tell me," Vegeta said with boredom lacing his tone, "How did a third-class like you get so much power? Raditz isn't as strong as you."

Goku smirked, realizing that Vegeta had underestimated him and was impressed with his power. "You're not the only one who trains under high gravity."

Vegeta sneered at him. "What do you mean?"

"When you started training in the gravity room Dr. Brief built for you, Bulma thought it would be a good idea for me to have one too. So she built one and gave it to me so Raditz and I could use it to train." His smirk grew when he saw Vegeta's eyes narrow in a hateful glare. "Don't tell me you didn't know."

As a matter of fact, he hadn't. Vegeta felt betrayed. Why would she give those idiots a gravity room of their own? He was supposed to be the only one with such privileges. He was the prince! He growled deep in his chest, his tail twitching more agitatedly. "At least it'll make defeating you more interesting."

The two saiyans stood there, silently appraising each other, before Goku leaped forward, charging Vegeta with his fist raised. A moment before he reached his adversary, Vegeta phased away and reappeared several yards above him, a beam of ki already firing at him. Goku jumped out of the way, the following explosion flinging his body out of control until he crashed to the ground, sliding through the muck until he finally came to a stop. He threw himself to his feet, rubbing his head, and batted a ki ball away before phasing out of sight.

Vegeta used his ability to sense ki to locate Goku, but he was half a second too slow and didn't see the kick aimed for his hip in time to dodge or block. He took the blow full force, but he grabbed Goku's leg and twisted until it was wrenched from its socket. Goku howled in pain while Vegeta spun him around and around before letting go, sending him straight into the ground. Goku hit hard, his body forming a small crater.

"Really, Kakarrot," Vegeta jeered, "This isn't even a challenge!"

"I'll give you a challenge," Goku muttered. Biting his lip, he forced his joint back into place and rose to his feet, testing the amount of weight he could put on his leg without it hurting. Not as much as he'd like. It would be almost useless through the rest of the fight. Vegeta worked quickly and ruthlessly, that was obvious. Goku took a deep breath and forced an influx of power into his body. "Kaio-ken times two!"

His aura blazed red as he shot into the sky, hammering his fists down on Vegeta's head, catching him on his knee, and hurling him down into the ground in a fraction of a second. But his attack didn't keep Vegeta down; the prince immediately blasted out of his own crater and took to the air again, rage burning in his obsidian eyes. He phased out of sight a few feet before he reached Goku, reappeared behind him, dodged an elbow, phased around him, and kicked him hard in the abdomen. Goku doubled over, gasping for breath, while Vegeta crashed his fists down on his head.

Goku fell several yards before he caught himself, having gained his breath. He was startled when Vegeta appeared right in front of him, fist drawn back for a hard punch, but he was able to react on time to block the hit with his forearm while his left leg rose to kick Vegeta's ribs. But Vegeta anticipated the move and blocked with his arm. They broke apart, then, and flared their ki before diving in for close hand-to-hand combat with flying kicks and punches so fast neither was able to block or dodge them all. Goku was taking more hits than Vegeta, but he was holding his own fairly well until Vegeta got one good kick in that ended with him sprawled on the ground, seeing stars.

Vegeta dropped down to the ground as Goku rolled onto his stomach, then raised himself to his hands and knees. "Third-class trash! You should know better than to get into a fight with the Prince of all Saiyans!" He viciously kicked Goku's ribs, satisfied when he heard bones crack. Goku yelped and clutched his side when his body stopped rolling.

The tailless saiyan again rose to his hands and knees and shouted, "Kaio-ken times two!" Again he was surrounded by crimson flames as he darted toward Vegeta, catching him with a punch that broke his nose. But when he rose his other fist to strike, Vegeta caught it in his hand and crushed it until he felt bones snapping in his rival's hand. Goku, still infused with extra energy, tried to kick Vegeta to break free, but his leg was caught with Vegeta's free hand. Almost completely immobilized, Goku used his free hand to punch Vegeta again. Vegeta, though, cocked his head to avoid the blow.

Vegeta released Goku and phased away. He flew high into the sky and cupped his hands at his sides, preparing his Gallic Gun. Down below, Goku looked up and saw what he was doing. He moved his hands to his side and started gathering energy for his kamehameha wave. The land, blanketed in the darkness of night, was lit with the energy held in the saiyans' hands.

"Ka…me…" Goku tried to relax when he felt the magnitude of Vegeta's power. He thought it was high before, but now it had the power to kill him if he wasn't able to hold him off with his counterattack. He took a deep breath. "Ha…me…"

Vegeta moved his hands in front of him, his strongest attack now ready. He released it, the bright violet beam shooting forward, headed directly for the earthling saiyan. He felt the power in Kakarrot's hands and knew it would be hard to overcome, but he was still confident. He could beat him.

Goku slid his left foot back, preparing himself for the jolt when the two beams impacted. "Ha!" He threw his hands forward, releasing the beam of blue energy directly in the path of Vegeta's attack. He grunted when he felt the resistance, nearly enough to throw him backwards. He grit his teeth and poured more energy into his kamehameha, unwilling to step down, unable to back out now.

They were almost evenly matched, neither making any progress pushing their energy far enough to overcome his opponent. It was a stalemate, the only sign of their ongoing struggle the growing bulge of energy in the middle where blue met violet. Both had reserved enough power to push forward and both were driven by a fierce determination to win, to prove himself as the stronger warrior. Vegeta's fury rose and Goku's desperation grew the longer the draw continued. Unrelenting, they were oblivious to the world around them, focused solely on each other and the dangerous amount of energy manifested between them.

This is how they were when the others arrived: Piccolo, Tien, Krillin, Raditz, and Nappa. They all felt the two tremendous powers facing off against each other, rising and falling in battle. The earthling warriors landed a safe distance from the battle while the two saiyans stayed in the air, high above the struggle. No one knew what started the fight and no one wanted to step in; these were the two strongest warriors pitted against one another, and there was enough energy in a single one of their ki beams to kill them all.

Finally, after what felt like hours to the dueling saiyans, Vegeta started making headway, forcing so much energy into his attack that he felt like his arms were on fire. He roared with the effort and forced it farther, pushing Goku's wave back inch by inch, then more rapidly until it was only a few yards from Goku's hands. Seeing the trouble he was in, Goku gathered his last reserves of energy and poured them into his attack, then yelled, "Kaio-ken times two!"

In an instant all the progress Vegeta had made was reversed and it was Goku's kamehameha that was overtaking the Gallic Gun. 'No!' Vegeta thought, 'I will not be defeated by a third-class clown!' He thrust even more ki into his attack, pouring out the last dregs of his energy, but it still wasn't enough. He was going to be overcome by Kakarrot.

"Kaio-ken times three!" Goku screamed as energy flooded through him, renewing his power and pushing his kamehameha the rest of the way until it enveloped Vegeta, sending the saiyan prince high into the atmosphere before he was able to free himself from the beam.

Panting, Goku sank to his knees. He doubted that was enough to hold Vegeta off for long. But he was exhausted; there wasn't any fight left in his body. It was only then he noticed the other warriors who had come to see what was going on. He waved to Piccolo, Tien, and Krillin before he fell forward, too tired to catch himself before his face met the ground.

Krillin was the first to rush over to his side, kneeling on the ground next to him. "Goku? What the heck is going on here? Why are you and Vegeta fighting? Goku?" He grabbed his tall friend's shoulders and shook him violently. "Come on, answer me!"

By the time he had Goku rolled over onto his back, the rest of the warriors – including Nappa and Raditz – had come over to hear his explanation. Goku looked around at them and sighed. "I sensed Vegeta's power out here and I came to see what he was doing. I guess he wasn't in the mood for a visit and started a fight with me."

"Kakarrot, you idiot!" Raditz groaned. "I've told you to leave Vegeta alone. When you feel his power, he's just training."

"Hey, don't call him an idiot," Tien growled. "We can't trust Vegeta. You _tell_ us he won't hurt anyone, but how are we supposed to believe that? You're all murderers!"

"Tien, please!" Goku sat up, wincing in pain. "We don't need to fight amongst ourselves."

"Are you seriously taking their side?" Krillin asked incredulously. "Tien's right, we can't trust them! They're bad news."

They were still arguing when Vegeta landed softly behind them. He was holding his right shoulder, which was badly burned and bleeding profusely, and his breathing was quick and ragged. It took every ounce of strength he had left to stay on his feet. "Kakarrot," he spat. "We're not finished yet."

The others whirled around when they heard him. The earthlings took defensive stances when the incensed saiyan started plodding toward them, each foot forward a tremendous effort though he hid it well. "Stay back, Vegeta. This fight is over," Piccolo warned him.

"This fight is over when I say it's over," Vegeta hissed. He raised himself to his full height and dropped his arms to his sides, hands clenched into fists. "And it's not over. Get out of the way if you want to live."

Nappa and Raditz inched away from the other warriors, distancing themselves from them in case Vegeta sprung an attack on them. They didn't want to get in the way. Still, they moved into their fighting stances, ready to obey the orders of their prince. Raditz was more reluctant, not wanting any quarrels between his comrades and his brother, but he was loyal first and foremost to the throne and would not hesitate to kill Kakarrot if he was ordered to. They watched Goku as he struggled to his feet and pushed through his small band of friends.

"You don't have any energy left, Vegeta," he said. "Stop this fight before you get hurt."

He didn't know that Vegeta was already hurt, more than he would ever admit. Physically, he was more exhausted than anything, but his pride was shattered. He had been bested by a third-class warrior, a fool with no tail, hardly a saiyan. He would sooner die than discontinue the fight before he could take his pride back and gain revenge. He was about to say so when he was momentarily distracted by the sound of a jet nearby, flying low. He turned to see where it was and growled loudly when he saw that it was a Capsule Corporation jet, top of the line, no doubt the blue-haired banshee chasing after everyone to stick her nose where it didn't belong as usual.

He turned back to Goku and slid his foot back, preparing to pounce. "You're weaker than me. I will not be defeated!" With a feral snarl he leaped on Goku, knocking him to the ground, and started beating him with everything he had. Kicking and punching as they rolled around in the ash, they struggled for dominance. Vegeta was vicious, animalistic. When punching and kicking were not enough he started clawing, digging his nails into his opponent's body, and bit him, tearing off chunks of muscles, shredding his flesh. He ignored the others shouting for him to stop, their attempts to pull him off, and their weak hits.

Bulma landed her jet a short distance away when she spotted them and took the scouter off. She used it to track their power levels after Nappa and Raditz abruptly left the compound. She knew something was amiss and wanted to figure out what. She jumped out of her jet and ran over to the fight, at first confused about what was happening. Like a fight at a school her friends were gathered in a huddle, shouting and shoving each other out of the way.

"Guys!" she screamed, trying to make her voice rise about the ruckus. "Guys, stop!"

She managed to catch their attention, and other than Goku and Vegeta, who continued grappling on the ground, everyone turned when they heard her approaching. "Bulma, stay back," Tien said.

Bulma shook her head and shoved her way through them until she saw what they were all watching. Her heart leaped in her throat when she saw the blood. It was everywhere, coating both saiyans. She couldn't even tell whose it was. There was a layer of wet ash covering them, hiding their injuries. "Goku! Vegeta! Stop fighting! What the hell are you doing?"

Vegeta was distracted for just long enough that Goku was able to throw him off. He jumped to his feet and ran after him to continue fighting. Vegeta dodged a kick and rose into a handstand, then sprung over Goku and kicked his head. He landed behind him in a low crouch before shooting forward to punch Goku's kidneys. But Goku turned and jumped, caught Vegeta around the waist, and threw him into the ground as hard as he could. The prince staggered to his feet and threw a ki ball at Goku, throwing him on the defense.

"I said stop!" Bulma ran over and tried to place herself between Goku and Vegeta, not noticing Goku disappear and phase in front of Vegeta to try another barrage of blows. She shrieked when one of Goku's punches caught her shoulder, knocking her to the ground. She cried out in pain as she clutched her shoulder.

The fight instantly stopped when Goku realized what he had done. Bulma had barely hit the ground before he was picking her up in his arms. "Bulma, I'm so sorry! I didn't see you."

She bit back her tears and tried to smile reassuringly, but it came across as a grimace. "It's okay, Goku. I know you didn't do it on purpose."

Vegeta watched their short exchange, horrified that Bulma had gotten hurt. Whatever anger he held against her for their argument earlier disappeared when he saw her go down. And then, _then_ that fool Kakarrot had the nerve to tell her he didn't see her? That he was _sorry_? Sorry was never, ever good enough.

Goku turned when he heard a low, ferocious growl. He backpedaled when he saw Vegeta crouching, ready to pounce, his lips curled in a snarl and tail lashing behind him. "Vegeta? Seriously, I think we should stop."

Bulma wiggled a little. "Goku," she murmured, "I think you should put me down."

He released her, letting her slip down to her feet. She stayed in front of him, blocking Vegeta from getting to Goku. She had seen that look before, when he saved her and her mother from the people who tried to kidnap her. He had gone into protection mode, and while that might have flattered her any other time, she was frightened about what the outcome may be.

"Vegeta, calm down. He didn't mean to hurt me. It's okay," she said reassuringly.

He wasn't swayed. He gnashed his teeth and circled around, but Bulma circled too, keeping herself between him and Goku. "I'm not going to let you hurt him, Vegeta."

"Get out of the way, girl."

"Bulma, it's okay," Goku said. He gently pushed her aside and faced Vegeta. "I'm not going to fight you anymore, Vegeta."

That wasn't enough to make Vegeta back off. He didn't care if Kakarrot kept fighting or not, he was still going to kill him for hurting his pack mate. Bulma didn't want to let their disagreement escalate further, but there was obviously nothing she could do. She could only hope that Vegeta would show enough restraint to not kill Goku.

As soon as she was a safe distance away, Vegeta leaped forward and attacked Goku, flooring him. He straddled the taller saiyan's chest and punched his face until his jaw fractured and his left eye was swollen shut. Goku finally managed to throw Vegeta off, then phased out of sight, reappearing next to him as he spun into a roundhouse kick that caught Vegeta's arm. There was the snap of a bone breaking. Both saiyans then disappeared and the only sign of their fight was the shockwaves as their fists collided, they blocked blows, and made solid hits.

Bulma looked all around, but she was never able to catch sight of either of them. She glanced over and saw that the others were able to track the fight with their eyes. She shook her head and sank to her knees. She didn't mean for Vegeta to get so upset in the first place. If she hadn't pushed him he wouldn't have left Capsule Corporation and this fight never would have happened. She hated to think what kind of shape they would be in when the fight ended. Hopefully both of them would make it through alive, but either way she was sure she was going to have to rush them to the infirmary to take care of broken bones, cuts, burns, and other injuries.

The fight seemed to last forever before Bulma saw an orange streak fall from the sky. The ground shook when Goku hit. She screamed, terrified that he had been killed. It was only a few seconds later that another body crashed to the ground. Neither of the saiyans rose from where they landed. Bulma sprinted over to Vegeta's body and knelt down next to him. She felt for a pulse on his neck and breathed a sigh of relief when she felt the steady throbbing. He was alive, but he was knocked out. She glanced over to where Goku had landed and saw that Krillin and Piccolo were already over there.

"How is he?" she called over to them.

Krillin stood up and rubbed his head. "Well, he's alive, but he's in pretty bad shape."

Bulma nodded and stood up. "We'll have to get them both to the infirmary. Can you carry them back to my jet?"

Tien came over and glared down at Vegeta. "I don't see why you want to help him, Bulma. You saw what he did! Goku was willing to concede but he kept fighting! He has no honor."

Bulma frowned at him. "You don't understand, Tien! He was just trying to protect me."

"From Goku?"

She shrugged. "Goku hurt me."

"Not on purpose."

"Whatever. Help Krillin get Goku to my jet." Bulma turned away from him and waved Raditz over. "Hey, Raditz! Come here! I need you to help me get Vegeta to my jet. I'm going to take him back to the infirmary at the compound."

Raditz glanced at Nappa, then came over and picked Vegeta up. Bulma led the way to her jet, with Tien and Krillin carrying Goku and Raditz carrying Vegeta. Piccolo and Nappa followed after them, just to make sure the charges were well taken care of. Once they were laid in the back of the jet, Bulma hopped into the pilot seat.

"Anyone coming with me or should I just meet you back at the compound?"

"I'll go with you," Krillin said. He walked around the jet and got in on the passenger side.

"Alright then, let's go!" Bulma started up the engine and took off, escorted by two saiyans, a Namekian, and a three-eyed man. She looked in the back at the two unconscious saiyans and sighed heavily. "I can't wait to see what kind of injuries these guys have," she grumbled.

It was over two hours later when Bulma's jet landed in the back yard of Capsule Corporation. She got out and opened the door for the others to take the saiyans out and carry them inside to the infirmary. She had already called her father to let him know she was bringing two beat-up saiyans and that she would probably need some extra medical staff on duty to help patch them up.

Within a few minutes both saiyans were in the infirmary hooked up to machines to monitor their vitals. Bulma ordered full-body x-rays and decided to start cleaning them up to treat their cuts and burns, but they were covered in a thick layer of blood and muddy ash. Eventually, she just pulled their outer clothes off and used a rag to clean their exposed skin while Dr. Brief tended to the more serious wounds.

"I have a feeling these two aren't going to be training for a while," Dr. Brief commented as he bandaged a deep gash on Goku's shoulder. He had strange wounds; some of them looked like bites more than anything.

Bulma snorted as she cleaned the burn on Vegeta's shoulder. "Good luck keeping them in bed long enough to heal. You know these guys."

"Why were they fighting anyway? It doesn't look like they were sparring."

"I don't know. Everyone got there after they already started." Bulma shrugged and ran her hand through Vegeta's upswept mane. "I have a feeling Vegeta was looking for a fight and Goku played into it without knowing better."

"That sounds about right," Dr. Brief chuckled. "Well, they're both going to be fine, so I guess it doesn't matter. They could have done a lot more damage to each other."

"You're telling me." Bulma bent forward and kissed her saiyan brother's forehead. "Stupid saiyans. They like to fight too much for their own good." They continued working quietly, cleaning and bandaging the saiyans while their medical staff studied the x-rays. There were over a dozen broken bones between the two of them. Cracked ribs, fractured jaw, broken nose, broken humerus, and shattered metacarpals and phalanges. Luckily no vital organs had been damaged aside from bruised kidneys.

Despite the severity of the injuries, Bulma was actually excited that Vegeta wouldn't be able to train for a few days while he healed. That meant she would be able to hang out with him a little and hopefully apologize for what she said to him that made him leave the compound. She was sorry for what she said, but she knew saying so wouldn't mean anything to him. Keeping him out of the gravity room was going to be a chore, but she was willing to take off work for a few days to make sure he didn't try training and end up hurting himself even worse. What a pity that she had to miss some boring board meetings. She smiled.

_A/N: SnowflakesInSummer, I don't typically do shout-outs because I have so many reviews that I would feel bad only addressing a few of them in my author's notes unless I make them super long. But hey, I guess I just did one. :) __As for everyone wanting Bulma/Vegeta romance, hold up! I never move fast in making romance happen in my stories. And don't worry about incest. It's not like Bulma and Vegeta are _actually_ brother and sister, so no worries, right? But then, did I ever say this was going to be a B/V romance fic? Let's not get ahead of the writer here. Bonds between saiyans are the same as being pack mates, though there are different kinds (e.g., mates, parents/children, friends). Bulma is still training with Chi-Chi even though she gave up training with Vegeta. And happy late birthday to Ayaka86._

_I wrote chapters 60 and 61 today (yep, I've been busy, but they're freaking awesome chapters. I know you'll love them). I'm getting pretty excited about finally writing the crazy, twisted, action-packed climax of the story. Oh, and a heads-up about the next update: Saturday is my roommate's wedding so I won't be able to update at 2:00AM (I won't have internet). So, I'm giving you a choice...do you want me to update Friday or late Saturday? Cast your vote via review. If not much opinion either way is given, then I'll just do late Saturday._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	52. Healing

Healing

The first thing Vegeta saw when he opened his eyes was the fluorescent light glaring down on him. He blinked a few times, adjusting to the light, and groaned when he felt pain all over his body. It wasn't sharp, just a dull pain persistently throbbing at the back of his conscious. He remembered how he got in such bad shape. Fighting with Kakarrot. He barely came out victorious, only able to hold on to consciousness a moment longer than the third-class idiot. How could he have come so close to being outmatched by someone who should have been many times weaker? It wasn't natural, it was – it was infuriating! And Kakarrot gained his power by using a gravity room exactly like his own that that traitorous bitch built for him.

"Well, look who finally decided to wake up."

Vegeta turned to the side when he heard her voice, the obnoxious voice of the blue-haired back-stabber. He sneered at her as she walked across the small, white room and pulled the blinds open. He squinted as the bright rays of the sun shone in on him. "What the hell are you trying to do, blind me?"

Rolling her eyes, Bulma sat in the chair next to his bed and crossed her legs. "No, Vegeta, I'm trying to cheer you up since I know you won't like what I'm about to tell you."

He sat up, carefully masking his pain. "Let me guess, you're going to tell me I can't train because of these trivial injuries."

She shrugged. "That's the gist of it. Look, Vegeta, I know you're eager to get back to training, but there's no way you can do it today. It might be a few days, maybe even a week. I hate to break it to you, but Goku did a real number on you." She held up her hand to stop him when he opened his mouth to speak. "And before you go on about how you hurt him worse, I already know. You beat the tar out of him."

Vegeta's eyes narrowed as he glared at her, miffed that she stole his thunder. He crossed his arms over his chest, only then noticing the cast on his left arm. He stared at it for a moment, then turned back to Bulma. "Why did you build him a gravity room?"

"Is that what you're so mad about?" Bulma rubbed her forehead. "Shouldn't I have? You've told me a thousand times that Frieza is going to come to Earth to hunt you down. I think it would be foolish not to have everyone prepared for him. Goku and Raditz can grow a lot stronger training under high gravity like you and Nappa. Don't you want them to get stronger? It sounds like you'll need all the help you can get."

The saiyan took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He knew she was right, but he was still upset that she hadn't even had the decency to tell him that the low-class saiyans were training in a gravity room. "Is their gravity room capable of the same level of gravity?"

"No, I only did the 100G upgrade for you." Bulma looked up at the ceiling and chuckled. "You're not afraid they're going to become more powerful than you, are you?"

"Of course not," he snapped. "I am the Prince—"

"Of all Saiyans, yeah, I got it," Bulma finished for him. She smirked when he glowered at her for interrupting his speech. "Anyway, Goku's not going to be training for a while either, so I don't see what the big deal is. Besides, your body could probably use the rest. You've been going practically nonstop since you got here. All work with no rest isn't the most effective way to gain power."

"What would you know?"

"I know your arm's broken and you have a couple cracked ribs, so I think resting a few days would be best. If you don't agree, I'd be happy to take the power core out of the gravity simulator. Don't think I won't."

Vegeta had no doubt she would follow through with her threat. It angered him, but at the same time he felt strangely inclined to listen to her. This was her way of protecting her pack mate from further injury, how could he dishonor that? Growling, he threw off the covers and swung his legs off the edge of the bed and planted his feet on the cold tile floor. "Where the hell are my clothes?"

"The clothes you were wearing are in the wash, though I doubt we'll ever get all the blood stains out. There's a new set of clothes on that table," Bulma answered, pointing to a table in the corner of the room. "I'll leave so you can get changed."

"Hn." He waited for her to exit the room before he got up and grabbed the clothes. She had given him a fresh pair of boxers, blue jeans, and a plain blue t-shirt. Figuring she could have chosen worse, he ripped off the hospital gown they put him in and put on the jeans. He had more a struggle with the shirt, getting his good arm through fine, but then got the shirt stuck over his head as he tried getting his other arm through, nearly suffocating himself before he managed to pull it down over his face. Once dressed, he walked out of the infirmary room and found Bulma leaning against the wall waiting for him.

"Mom's got breakfast ready," she told him. He grunted and started walking toward the kitchen next to her. "So would you mind telling me why you were fighting Goku?"

Vegeta huffed. "The fool came looking for a fight. I wasn't doing anything, but he assumed that because I had my ki raised I was killing people or some shit."

"Well, given your track record, can you blame him?" Bulma asked. She pushed the kitchen door open and went inside.

The saiyan prince followed her in and they took their seats at the table where Mrs. Brief already had breakfast laid out for them. "I gave my word I would not hurt anyone," Vegeta reminded her. "I do not break my word."

"I know that," Bulma said, "but that doesn't mean the others believe you."

"They saw what happens when they doubt my honor." Vegeta started piling waffles and bacon onto his plate.

"Yeah, they saw alright, and they're not happy about it."

"Like I care."

"Maybe you don't, but I do!"

"Hn." Vegeta finished the conversation by starting his meal. They were eating later than usual and all the others had already had their breakfast and gone to work or training. It was strangely quiet without Mrs. Brief's chatter and Dr. Brief's comments about news articles.

Bulma ate quietly and finished before Vegeta. She remained at the table, waiting for him, trying to stifle her snickering as she watched him eating clumsily with the cast, having to stretch his neck forward to reach it and more often than not dropping the food back on his plate. "So I've taken a few days off work to stay with you and make sure you don't get too bored while you're healing."

'And to make sure you don't try training,' she added mentally. She rested her hands on the table and rapped her fingers against its surface. She had already thought of dozens of different activities to do with the saiyan prince while he was banned from the gravity room, but she didn't think he would particularly care for any of them.

"I should also warn you that some of my friends will probably be coming around to check up on Goku. He's still in the infirmary."

Vegeta finished eating and crossed his arms over his chest. "Why is he still here?"

"Where else would he go? I told you he's in worse shape than you. I don't want to send him to a hospital and he's not well enough to go home yet. I'll send him home in a day or two depending on how fast he recovers." Bulma stood up and started clearing their dishes off the table. "So what do you want to do with all your free time?"

Vegeta thought about that for a moment before smirking as he answered, "We can design new upgrades for the gravity room. I want it to go to 300Gs and I need better bots."

That didn't sound like Bulma's idea of fun. She sighed and nodded. "Fine, how about we do that until lunch? Then we can do something _not_ training related for a change."

He was standing up to leave the kitchen after Bulma had carried the last of the dishes to the sink when the door opened and Nappa walked in. He was covered in sweat, probably having just come inside from training in the yard. He looked over at Vegeta and relaxed a little. "There you are, Vegeta. I thought I felt you wake up. You're not going to do any training today, are you?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "No, Nappa. The girl's already made it clear that I'm not _allowed _to train until I've fully healed."

Nappa glanced over at Bulma, who stood leaning against the counter with her arms crossed much like Vegeta. "Oh, well, good."

"Is that the only reason you're not training?" Vegeta growled.

"Yeah," Nappa mumbled. "You're feeling okay and everything?"

"I'm fine."

Nappa nodded and rubbed his bald head. "Well, okay then. I'll just go back to my training. I'll be outside if you need anything."

"Thank you, Nappa," Bulma said politely as he backed out of the kitchen. She chuckled after the door closed. "He's like a mother hen with you."

"It's his job," Vegeta briefly explained. He crossed the room and opened the door. "Are you coming or are you going to stand there all day?"

Bulma pushed away from the counter and followed Vegeta out of the kitchen and down to the hall to her laboratory. He stopped in front of the door and allowed her to enter the code to open the door and lead the way down into her lab. They went to one of her mostly clear workstations and sat on the stools to begin discussing upgrades and drawing blueprints for them. Vegeta mostly told her what sorts of upgrades he wanted and left the designs up to her. Sometimes he would provide input on the engineering or calculations, but mostly he was there to provide ideas and specifications.

They had been down in her laboratory for about an hour when the doorbell rang. "That's probably Chi-Chi and Gohan," Bulma said as she got up and ran up the stairs to leave her lab. Vegeta watched her exit and shrugged indifferently, turning back to the notes she had written for the increased gravity. He didn't think much about her leaving to open the door until she was gone for over twenty minutes. By then, he was growing agitated and decided to go find where she was.

He found her ki – still weak – and followed it until he found himself in the infirmary wing of the compound. He stopped in front of a door where he heard people talking inside. Figuring it was the right room, he opened the door and went in, not caring in the least if he was welcome or not. He saw Kakarrot in the bed, his brat sitting on the bed next to him, and his harpy wife sitting in one of the chairs next to his bed. Bulma was standing at the foot of his bed writing something on a clipboard.

The occupants of the room looked over when they heard the door open. No one looked particularly happy to see who their visitor was. Chi-Chi stood up, ready to force him out while Gohan moved closer to Goku for protection.

"What do you want, you – you big monster!" Chi-Chi screeched. "Get out of here!"

"Shut up, you fucking banshee!" Vegeta shouted over her.

Perhaps for the first time in her life, Chi-Chi was left speechless. She sank back down into her chair and glared at the intruder from afar. Goku sat up despite his protesting ribs and scowled at Vegeta.

Vegeta sneered at them as he walked over to Bulma and grabbed her wrist. "Stop wasting my time. You're supposed to be working on updates for my gravity room."

"Honestly, can't you wait a few minutes? I'm just checking Goku's progress. Go back to my lab." Bulma tried to pull her arm free, but Vegeta's hold didn't loosen. There was no way to break free; his hand completely encircled her narrow wrist.

"The clown is fine."

Shaking her head, Bulma set the clipboard on the table and frowned at Vegeta. "Well, if you don't want to go back to the lab I guess you can stay here as long as you're out of the way. I'm not done checking up on Goku."

"Have one of your employees take care of him!"

"I prefer not to have my employees dealing with saiyans. It's safer for me and my father to handle your medical needs." Bulma took a step and was nearly jerked off her feet when Vegeta didn't move with her. "Vegeta! Let go!"

He snarled as he let go of her wrist, then went and leaned against the wall to keep watch over her. Bulma went to Goku's side and felt his ribs, eliciting a whimper of pain. Vegeta sneered. What a weakling. She muttered something about his ribs not having healed yet and started peeling bandages off his arms and chest. Most of the cuts were already healed, but some of the deeper ones needed to be cleaned and bandaged again.

Chi-Chi kept her eyes on Vegeta, not trusting him to not try hurting her husband again. "Bulma, I don't want him in here," she hissed.

Bulma glanced over her shoulder at Vegeta and shrugged. "He's not doing any harm, Chi. We were working on something before you got here and he's impatient to have me get back to it."

The brunette woman huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't trust him. He's the reason Goku's here in the first place. He started the fight! You know Goku would never—"

"Vegeta might have done his part to provoke the fight, but I don't think Goku is wholly innocent," Bulma said firmly.

Goku made a protesting sound and Chi-Chi gaped at Bulma incredulously. "You think _my_ Goku would start a fight? You're crazy!"

"If you say so, Chi-Chi." Bulma knew better than to try arguing with her friend about Goku's innocence. Whether she was right or wrong, Chi-Chi could never be convinced that her husband was anything but an angel. "We'll let Goku tell his side of the story once his jaw heals. Until then he won't be talking at all."

Bulma soon finished her check-up and wrote a few more notes on her clipboard before leading Vegeta out of the infirmary room. "Stay as long as you like, Chi. If you need me I'll be in my laboratory. My mom should be home soon if you'd like anything to eat." She excused herself and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Vegeta and Bulma returned to her laboratory to continue working on his gravity room updates and stayed there until lunch. When they went to the kitchen to eat, they found Nappa and Raditz in there eating already. They sat down at the table and started eating. Mrs. Brief wasn't around, probably in the garden watering her flowers.

Bulma only picked at her food; it hadn't been all that long since breakfast and she wasn't very hungry. "You know, I'm really getting tired of everyone blaming you for the fight," she told Vegeta. "I know you probably helped instigate it, but Goku should have left you alone."

Nappa looked up from his plate and grunted. He didn't find it hard to believe the earthlings were putting all the blame on Vegeta. They would never think their precious hero, Kakarrot, would start a fight with him. He agreed with Bulma that Vegeta played a part in starting it, but he doubted there would have been any fight had Kakarrot minded his own business. What did surprise Nappa was the fact that Bulma was taking Vegeta's side. She was close friends with Kakarrot and their band of misfit warriors, but she still chose Vegeta over them. He was mildly impressed.

The truth was, the more he watched the Briefs interact with Vegeta, the more he was willing to accept them as his prince's pack. They showed genuine concern for him, and they were encouraging and supportive of his endeavor to grow stronger. The old man built him the gravity room, the crazy blonde woman provided filling, nutritious meals, and the blue-haired girl made upgrades and training bots for the gravity room. Most of the time they left him to his own devices, not wanting to disturb his training, but now that Vegeta was injured, he saw how much they cared for him. The girl was willing to stay with him until he was healed to make sure he didn't go out and hurt himself again, something neither he nor Raditz could do since they were still busy with their own training. On top of that, the girl was standing up for Vegeta against her other friends to defend his honor, if only with words. These humans were a strange breed, forcing him to rethink his original assessments about their motives and usefulness.

He never discussed his thoughts with anyone, but he continued silently observing the Briefs and listened to how they talked to and about Vegeta. He never heard anything negative, except from the girl, who occasionally said nasty things about him or yelled at him. Usually, though, Vegeta provoked her and fully deserved her verbal retaliation. In a way, that made Nappa like her more. She was weak physically – not as weak as most humans, though – but she was strong mentally, definitely a fighter in her own right. So, he was slowly warming up to her and her parents.

The saiyans were all finishing their last plate when Mrs. Brief came into the kitchen humming one of her favorite tunes. "Oh, Vegeta, dear, there you are! I'm glad to see you're up and about. You haven't been training, though, have you? I should hope not! You poor boy, you must be in so much pain!"

Vegeta grunted and shied away from her when she rushed over to hug him. He was generally willing to accept her affection, but it was sometimes embarrassing when she coddled him in front of the others. He sighed when he was unable to evade her arms for long. He glared over her shoulder when Raditz and Bulma started laughing. Raditz stopped laughing, but Bulma stuck her tongue out at him and kept laughing despite his nonverbal warning to stop.

Mrs. Brief stepped back, but still held onto his arms. "You don't have to go to the store with me today, dear. You can just stay home and rest."

He shook his head. "No, I'll go with you."

Mrs. Brief smiled and shrugged. "Only if you want to, sweetie."

"Hn."

"Well, then, are you ready to go now? I'd like to be back by two so I have time to prepare dinner." When he nodded, Mrs. Brief released him and turned to Bulma. "Would you like to come with us, honey?"

Bulma shook her head. "No, I'll take a break from saiyan-sitting. I'm pretty tired, so I'll take a nap while you're gone."

"Okay, dear. We should be back soon," Mrs. Brief said as she picked up her keys and hovercar capsule from the counter on her way out of the kitchen.

Chuckling, Bulma shook her head as she stood up and started clearing dishes off the table. "I still can't believe he goes with her to the grocery store every day."

Nappa grunted as he stood up and stretched. He had to agree with the girl on that one. Shopping was not a prince's duty, but he did it willingly. Beside him, Raditz also rose out of his seat to go outside and resume training for the afternoon. They were leaving when Bulma called after them, "Hey guys! I don't know if you're using the gravity room or not, but if you are you should be careful with bot 4. It's been prone to malfunctioning. I don't want you to get hurt too."

"Er… thanks," Raditz mumbled. He nodded once, almost in a bow, as he followed after Nappa.

Bulma finished taking the dishes to the sink and went across the hall to the living room to lie down on the couch for her nap. She got to bed late the night before after taking care of her saiyan friends and got up extra early to make sure she beat Vegeta so she could keep him from getting up to go train. Then he didn't wake up until after 9:00, so her early morning wasn't even worth the trouble. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry with him. She pulled the blanket from the back of the couch over herself and closed her eyes, ready for a quick power nap that would get her through the rest of the day.

She was drifting off to sleep when the doorbell rang. Groaning, she cracked her eyes open and stared at the wall for a few moments before sitting up and rubbing her eyes. Really, all she wanted was a little rest, but it would be rude not to answer the door, especially if it was one of her friends coming to check up on Goku. She pushed herself to her feet and shuffled out of the living room to the front door. She threw it open and gave a weak smile to greet Krillin.

"Hey, Bulma," he said, nervously peeking around her down the hall, as if expecting the boogeyman to jump out and attack.

"Hey," she mumbled. "You here to see Goku?"

"Uh, yeah, I mean, if it isn't too much trouble," he answered, tapping his index fingers together.

Bulma stepped aside to let him in and pointed down the hall. "You know where the infirmary is. Second door on the left when you reach it. I'll be in the living room if you need me. Going to take a nap." She yawned and turned around to go back to the couch to sleep for a little while, leaving Krillin to fend for himself.

She was stopped when she reached the door to the living room when Krillin called after her, "Bulma, wait! V-Vegeta isn't around here, is he? Or the other big guy? I just – I don't want to run into them, if you know what I mean."

The blue-haired heiress braced her arm against the wall and rested her head on her forearm. "Krillin, they won't hurt you. Vegeta's at the store with my mom and Nappa and Raditz are outside training. Leave them alone and they'll leave you alone."

"Yeah," Krillin muttered, "You mean like how Vegeta left Goku alone."

Bulma rounded on him, blue eyes blazing with rage. "I can't believe you, Krillin! Vegeta didn't start that fight any more than Goku did! Stop blaming him for everything! I'm sick of everyone assuming it was all Vegeta's fault."

Krillin took a step back, raising his hands defensively, but she hadn't changed his mind. "Why defend him, Bulma? He's bad news, but you seem to be the only one that can't see that!"

"Oh, is that what you think?" she hissed. Bulma marched past him and opened the front door. "Get out of my house!"

"What?"

"I said get out! Until you stop talking about Vegeta that way, you're not welcome here!"

"But what about Goku?"

Bulma's hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Get! Out!"

"Okay!" Krillin scurried out the door and stood on the front step, facing her. "Yeesh, it's not like I said anything wrong."

The front door slammed closed in his face. Bulma stormed into the living room and threw herself down on the couch, hardly able to rein in her anger enough to calm down so she could get some shut-eye. She pulled the blanket up to her chin and glared at the ceiling for a few minutes, silently fuming over Krillin's accusations against Vegeta. So they hadn't hit it off during their first meeting. Did that mean everyone had to hold a grudge against him? He made some bad decisions, but he wasn't a bad guy. Just misunderstood. And cranky. She sighed and shook her head. No use thinking about it now. She was too tired. She closed her eyes and a few minutes later finally fell asleep.

Nappa caught one of Raditz's fists and twisted his arm around until the younger saiyan cried out in pain. "Did you hear that?"

"What? My bones cracking? Loud and clear."

The bald saiyan rolled his eyes. "No. The girl was screaming at someone."

"Oh. Yeah. Sounded like she was yelling at Krillin to leave. Something about him saying something bad about Vegeta or something." Raditz winced as the pressure on his arm increased. "Could you let go of me now?"

"Figure out how to free yourself."

Raditz sighed; he hated his defensive technique lessons from the former general. They were extremely painful, often humiliating, and they left him sore in more places than he cared to count. He had to admit, they were helpful, but he would have preferred skipping them for an ordinary spar.

They were still training when Mrs. Brief and Vegeta returned home. The saiyans didn't pay much attention to them, though Nappa did notice that Mrs. Brief wouldn't allow Vegeta to carry any grocery bags with his injured arm. Perhaps she was being a bit overprotective, but it was good to see he was being well taken care of by the human woman. Nappa shook his head, refocusing on his fight with Raditz. He didn't need to worry about the prince – his pack was going to make sure he recovered properly.

Vegeta walked into the kitchen and set the grocery bags on the counter. While she started putting the groceries away before fixing dinner, he left the kitchen and went to the living room to wake up Bulma. He did not intend to sit around waiting for her to wake up and entertain him. If she insisted on him not training, it was the least she could do to give him something to do. He found her sleeping on the couch, drool trickling from the corner of her mouth. His nose wrinkled in disgust.

"Girl, wake up!" he barked.

Bulma shifted in her sleep. "Hm? Wha'?"

"Get up!"

"Five more minutes…"

'Five more minutes, my ass,' he thought. Vegeta grabbed her blanket and threw it off her, then gripped her wrist and pulled her off the couch. "If you don't get up this instant I'm going to go train in the gravity room."

Bulma beat the floor with her fists and whimpered. She was so tired, she just wanted a few more minutes of peace. But peace was a rare commodity when Vegeta was in the compound. She pushed herself up to her elbows and glared up at the smirking saiyan prince. "You are possibly the biggest jerk I have ever known in my life. Right up there with all the Red Ribbon Army creeps and Emperor Pissant."

"I'm hurt."

Bulma stood up and brushed the invisible carpet fibers off her shirt. "Be any more sarcastic and I might believe you."

"Hn."

"Well, since you seem to have something against me ever getting any sleep, what do you want?"

"You tell me. You're the one who banned me from training until these minor injuries are healed." Vegeta gave the cast on his arm a sour look to emphasize his distaste for it.

Bulma sighed with exasperation and rested her hands on her hips. "Are you _that_ incapable of finding something else to do on your own?" She held up her hand to stop him before he could answer. "No, never mind, don't answer that. Fine, I'll tell you what you can do. Sit your ass on that chair over there and meditate."

"That doesn't count as training?" he asked snidely.

"Train your _mind_ all you want. Just don't do anything physical, got it?" Bulma glanced at the clock on the wall and groaned. "I have to go check up on Goku anyway. I'll be back in a few minutes. Don't go anywhere."

Vegeta scowled at her as she left the living room, then sat down in the chair and closed his eyes. If she wanted him to meditate, then fine, he would meditate. She better not expect him to come out of his trance anytime soon, either. Nope. He was going to meditate until dinner. If she gets bored, that's her own problem. He cleared his mind and sank into his meditative state a minute later.

Bulma finished writing her notes and set her clipboard down. "So, I think you can go home after tomorrow," she told Goku. His expression brightened when he heard that, but he still couldn't talk.

Chi-Chi clapped her hands together. "Really? That soon, Bulma? Wonderful!"

The blue-haired scientist nodded happily. "Yeah, he's healing pretty fast and I think you'll be able to take care of him as well as I can. You'll have to bring him back when he's fully recovered for another check-up, but I think his body can heal itself well without my help."

Gohan slid off the bed and ran over to Bulma, wrapping his short arms around her legs. "Thank you, Miss Bulma!"

Bulma smiled and patted his head. "Don't thank me, squirt. I'm happy to get one of these saiyans off my hands." She chuckled and sat at the foot of the bed. "I'm telling you, Vegeta is driving me insane since he can't train for a few days."

Chi-Chi's smile faded. "Well, what do you expect?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean that man is a self-absorbed, arrogant, hateful creature. He probably demands things left and right and he doesn't deserve any of it!"

Bulma sighed. She was tired of arguing with her friends about Vegeta. He was a good man, underneath his rough exterior. They couldn't see what she could. He wouldn't let them. There was no changing their minds; they had already decided he was evil and that was final. "Well, I'll let you guys talk. I'll be around if you need me." She stood up and strode out of the room, slamming the door closed behind her.

She walked back to the living room and saw Vegeta sitting in the chair, eyes closed and breathing slow and steady, almost as if he were asleep. She figured he had taken her advice to meditate, which meant she could get a little more sleep in before dinner. She lay down on the couch, pulled the blanket over herself, and drifted into a light sleep.

It wasn't until after dinner that they spoke to each other again. Bulma somehow convinced him to watch a movie with her, though he insisted it would make his brain rot. She dragged him with her to the recreation room and shoved him down onto the couch in front of the television and picked a movie at random – unfortunately, a fairy tale with a beautiful princess waiting for her gallant prince charming to come sweep her off her feet – and put it in the DVD player. She sat down on the couch next to him and put her feet up on the coffee table.

Vegeta didn't say anything through the movie, but every time Bulma glanced over at him he had a fiercer scowl on his face. Obviously he wasn't impressed with the movie, but she hadn't expected him to be, so she wasn't disappointed. She got more amusement from his reaction than from the movie itself. Halfway through she couldn't hold her laughter back anymore. His lip curled in a snarl, but he still didn't say anything. When the movie ended, he stood up and walked out of the room without a word.

Bulma was still snickering when he made his silent departure. She turned the TV off and got up to go find him, but she didn't see him in the hall. "Vegeta? Where'd you go?"

She was answered by the sound of his door clicking shut and the lock turning. She ran over to his door and started pounding on it. "Vegeta! Come out! Seriously, are you that mad?"

"I can't believe you would waste my time with something so foolish!" his voice came through the door, slightly muffled.

"Oh, come on! I know it's a stupid movie, but that's the point!"

"Go away, girl."

"Oh, fine, you big baby," she grumbled. She kicked the door once before stomping over to her own room to take a bath. She was drawing her bath when she remembered she hadn't told him he shouldn't get his cast wet. She put on a robe and ran out into the hall and started pounding on his door again.

"What now, girl?" he yelled.

"Open the door, I need to tell you a couple things!" she yelled back.

She heard the sound of his bed creaking, then heavy footsteps moving toward the door. The lock clicked, the doorknob turned, and the door flew open. Vegeta stood in the doorway, barring the way just in case she tried to weasel her way inside. "What?"

Bulma cleared her throat and lifted her chin high. "I came to tell you that you shouldn't get your cast wet. Also, I need to know if you need help getting your shirt off."

He rolled his eyes. "I'll manage."

"Oh." Bulma crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, okay then. Good."

"Is that all?" Vegeta looked her up and down. "Or do I even want to know why you came to my private quarters wearing _that_?"

Bulma's mouth gaped open as a blush spread across her cheeks. "Vegeta! Gross! I am _not_ that kind of girl! And – and – you're practically my brother!"

He snorted. "Hardly."

While his dismissal of her familial attachment stung, she reassured herself by assuming he simply didn't want to admit she was like a sister to him. "Fine, jerk. I'll see you in the morning." She whirled around and stormed off to her bedroom to take her bath.

The next day passed in much the same way, with Vegeta and Bulma working together after breakfast to design updates for the gravity room, then after lunch Vegeta went with Mrs. Brief to the grocery store, then he spent the afternoon meditating while she went to her laboratory to work until dinner. After dinner, Bulma sent Goku home, then went with Vegeta on a walk to the city park. After they returned to the compound, Bulma took him to the library so he could read until he decided to go to bed.

On the third day, Bulma started the day by taking x-rays of Vegeta's arm and ribs to see how fast he was healing. His ribs were completely healed and his arm was healed enough that she could take his cast off and give him a brace until he was fully recovered. Vegeta was pleased to have greater mobility in his arm again, but he was still frustrated with the brace and wanted to rip it off.

"If you do," Bulma warned him, "You'll probably break your arm again and have to start over with a cast."

Vegeta continued testing the mobility of his arm. Better than before, but still not great. He couldn't wait to begin training again. He could feel his energy building as he recovered. Finding out exactly how much strength he gained from his fight with Kakarrot was what he looked forward to most. It no doubt provided a substantial boost in his power level.

"So I was thinking last night, and I think I came up with a way to make the gravity simulator go up to 500Gs," Bulma told him as she led him out of the infirmary.

"How?"

Bulma grinned at him. "Come to my lab and I'll show you the calculations. I might need to make some minor adjustments, but I'm pretty sure I can do it."

"Hn." Vegeta didn't show his enthusiasm, but he definitely felt it. Hell, if Bulma could make an upgrade for 500Gs, why not 1000Gs eventually? He would ask about that later.

She took him down to her laboratory and slapped a notebook filled with notes on the gravity simulator down on the table in front of him. She leaned over and started pointing to the different calculations. "See, if I did this, then I'd have to reinforce the internal structure of the gravity room, which shouldn't be too hard. I'm actually more worried about the console, so I might have to rebuild it a little to be able to withstand gravity that high. Wouldn't want it to be crushed and then have you trapped in there at some insanely high gravity. I also need to work on updating the safety mechanisms in case anything malfunctions."

Vegeta glanced over the numbers and formulas scrawled all over the page. He knit his brow when he saw one that didn't look right. Pointing to it, he asked, "Didn't you overestimate the pounds per square inch that the alloy could hold under?"

Bulma turned the notebook and looked over the equation in question. "Huh. Yeah, I guess that is kind of high. Well, that changes some things." She frowned as she looked through the rest of her notes. "So, if I change that…"

When she started mumbling to herself as she recalculated, Vegeta lost interest and started wandering around her laboratory, kicking aside stray scraps of metal and looking around at the half-completed machines sitting on the tables. He couldn't understand how she could want to dedicate her life to working with machines. It seemed so dull. But then, Vegeta was no mechanic, nor was he a scientist. He was a warrior, and his only real interest was in fighting. So, of course, the only machines of interest to him were those that helped him grow stronger, like the gravity simulator and the training bots Bulma created for him.

The blue-haired scientist shoved the notebook off the table and held her head in her hands as she tried to calm down. It only took a few minutes to become incredibly frustrated. "Damnit! It's not going to work."

Vegeta glanced over at her as he carefully picked his way through the mechanical carnage. "What isn't?"

"Unless we can develop a stronger alloy or something, we're not going to be able to up the gravity to 500Gs." She raked her hands through her hair and sighed. "Sorry, Vegeta. Didn't mean to get your hopes up."

"So develop a stronger alloy." It seemed like a simple enough solution.

She didn't agree. "It's not that easy. We're already using the most durable material ever created. It's not like I can just make something better. We've already got a team of scientists working on that endeavor, and after three years they still haven't come up with anything new."

Vegeta picked up a device that looked like a remote control and turned it over in his hands, trying to figure out what it was for. "If you had the same metal the space pods were built from you would be able to go beyond 500Gs."

"Yeah, well, we don't," she snapped.

"So create it." He tossed the remote aside when he couldn't figure it out and leaned against the table. "I'm sure you have some way to copy it and produce it."

Bulma shook her head. "I doubt it. Anyway, since that's not going to work, why don't we do something fun for a change?"

"Fun?"

"Yeah, we could go shopping, or get ice cream, or go to the beach, or go bowling…"

"You have not named a single activity that sounds 'fun.'"

"Oh, really?" Bulma put her hands on her hips. "Then what do _you_ propose we do?"

"I want to train," he grumbled. He was practically going through withdrawal. His body hadn't been pumped up on adrenaline and endorphins for over two days. He felt sluggish and agitated and his mood, never pleasant, was rapidly worsening.

Bulma sighed and walked over to Vegeta. "Well, I guess maybe some light training couldn't hurt. It would be good for you to keep your shoulder, elbow, and wrist moving, but nothing too heavy. Like maybe jogging or … or _dancing_." Smirking, she grabbed his hand and dragged him out of her laboratory, though she knew she was only able to move him because he allowed it.

Vegeta stopped listening to her when he heard her say he could do some light training. It wasn't much, but it was better than sitting around all day doing nothing. He followed as Bulma pulled him upstairs, down the hall, and up another flight of stairs to the third story of the compound. He had only explored up there a time or two, not finding it of much interest. There was one large room in the middle, some bathrooms and closets, and a few more guestrooms.

She led him into the large room. There were ornate chandeliers, a small stage for an orchestra off to one side, and the floor was polished marble. Sunlight streamed in through the large windows all around the room, illuminating it without Bulma having to turn on the lights.

"What the hell are we supposed to do here?" Vegeta groused.

"Dan—er, train." Bulma grinned and pulled him to the middle of the room. "This is the kind of training you do with another person and you _don't_ beat each other up. It's, uh, it's to work on coordination."

His eyebrow rose. "Coordination?"

She nodded sagely. "Yes, coordination. Warriors can't fight if they're always tripping over themselves, can they? And it would be just as bad for them to trip over someone else close by. So we're going to work on coordination."

Vegeta's eyes narrowed suspiciously when she intertwined her fingers with his and faced him. "Strange how in all my years of training I have never heard of such a form of training."

She shrugged. "Well, every planet's got different techniques, right?"

"Girl, if you're lying to me…"

"Oh, hush. Now put your hand here, on my hip." Bulma placed his free hand on her hip and rested her hand on his shoulder. Her breath hitched when she looked at him. She had rarely been so close to him when they weren't fighting. She could see a crease forming on his brow. He obviously wasn't entirely convinced she wasn't trying to pull something. "So, in this particular exercise, we move to a set rhythm in triads, okay? So if I were to count one, two, three, you make a particular movement with each count."

"Next you'll want me to do this with music," he growled.

Bulma laughed nervously. "Only if you want to." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, on the first count, you move your left foot forward, and I have to counter by moving my right foot back. Try it."

Vegeta moved his left foot forward. Bulma moved her right foot backward. She smiled at him. "See? Nothing to it. Then on the second count, you move your right foot to the right and forward. But don't move your left foot." He moved his right foot and she moved with him. "Good. Then on the third count, you move your left foot over to your right foot."

"This is pointless," he said as he brought his feet together.

"Be patient. You have to learn the moves before we can get started with the actual training. Now, on the next count, which would be one again, you move your right foot straight back ."

He moved his right foot back and she moved her left foot forward. "And then on the next count you move your left foot back and to the left. Basically the opposite of the first three counts. And then you bring your right foot over to your left foot on the third count. Then start over again."

Vegeta finished the move and rolled his eyes. "If that's the extent of this, it's a waste of my time."

"Sure, anybody could do _that_," she agreed. "But while we're doing this you have to keep this distance between us and you have to lead me around the room. We don't stay in this one little area."

"Still sounds stupid."

"Just try it. If you get this one, we can do something more difficult."

"Fine."

"Okay. I'll start counting." Bulma could hardly stifle her laugh. Vegeta was dancing and he didn't even know it! She took a deep breath and started counting at a moderate tempo. "One – two – three, one – two – three…"

Vegeta led Bulma around the room a few times before she told him they could stop. "That was good. You picked up on that fast."

"If I'm not mistaken," he said, "we just did what those idiot humans did in that foolish movie you made me watch two days ago."

"What movie?" Bulma bit her lip as she tried to remember which one they watched. She started laughing when she remembered it was the fairy tale movie. "Oh, that one! Um, yeah, they might have done something similar."

"This isn't training."

"It can be." Bulma moved closer to him and moved his hand on her hip to her back. "Now let's try to maintain this distance." Her body was practically pressed against his now. She was so close his body heat was making her sweat – or was it because she was nervous?

"I am not going to waste my time with this," he snarled. He tried to step away from her, but she held on to him.

"No, Vegeta, wait!" Bulma smiled guiltily. "Ok, so it's not training, but it's kind of fun, don't you think? At least you're getting to move around."

Vegeta exhaled slowly. She felt his warm breath on her face. "You lied."

"Only because I knew you wouldn't want to do it if I told you what we're really doing. Come on, don't be mad at me." She held his gaze, though she could see anger in his eyes. She knew he had little tolerance for dishonesty, but she was right in thinking he wouldn't agree to dance with her if he knew that was what he was doing.

"If you knew I wouldn't want to, you shouldn't have tricked me into doing it in the first place, you idiot girl."

Bulma frowned and shifted her gaze from his eyes. Instead, she fixed her eyes on his broad chest. She inhaled deeply through her nose and smiled again when she smelled his wild, masculine scent. Not disgusting, sweaty body odor, but the faint scent that made her think of burning wood, ozone, like an approaching thunderstorm. It was actually pleasant. "You smell good," she murmured.

"What?"

She slapped her hand over her mouth and looked up at him, wide-eyed. Did she really just say that out loud? "Nothing."

He looked about as shocked as she did at first, but then a smug smirk formed on his lips. "So, you think I smell good?"

"Er, yeah, I mean, you're not all sweaty and nasty…"

He snorted. She wasn't going to cover her compliment that easily. She didn't know it, but in saiyan culture, giving a compliment on another's scent was the highest form of flattery aside from declining a fight because the other saiyan was too strong. His mood was lightened by her small comment.

"So what do you call what we were doing?"

"Dancing."

"_That_ was dancing? Pathetic."

"What do you mean?"

"It was slow, simple, boring, and non-violent." Or sexual. He decided to leave off the last part since he had no interest in bringing that up with her anyway.

"And I suppose saiyans danced violently, and it was fast, complicated, and exciting?" she asked pugnaciously.

"I wouldn't call it exciting. I always hated dancing."

Bulma laughed. "I can't imagine a bunch of warriors dancing!"

Vegeta shrugged. "What culture _doesn't_ have some version of dancing?"

"I don't know. I guess I never thought about it." Bulma stopped laughing. Maybe it wasn't really that funny. Hell, maybe they just danced around a bonfire made from the corpses of their enemies. It was still dancing. He never said what kind of dancing they did. "But you're right."

"Hn."

"So show me how saiyans danced if it was so much better."

"You can't fly."

"So?"

"Dancing wasn't entirely on the ground."

Bulma shrugged one shoulder. "Well, fine. How about I teach you one of our faster, more interesting and complicated dances?" Bulma took his hand and extended her arm out to the side. She rested her other hand on his shoulder and inched closer to him. She grinned, deciding it would be best to leave out the little detail that it was also considered one of the more _seductive_ dances of the world when he moved his arm around her, holding her close. If he noticed, he didn't mention the quickening of her heartbeat and the flush in her cheeks. "It's called the tango."

And so they spent the rest of the morning dancing. Vegeta mercilessly insulted the human dances and Bulma laughingly agreed they were silly as they gracefully circled around the ballroom. Vegeta would never admit it to anyone – not even himself – that he had fun with Bulma, and the exercise eased his need to train. And strangely, he never found it awkward to be so close to Bulma, not when he held her hand and not when he wrapped his arm around her. With each breath he took he could smell her sweet scent, and every time he looked at her she was smiling, her lips parted just enough to reveal her white teeth. Even if he hadn't been having fun, seeing her so happy would have been enough for him to keep going. It was a nice change from her typical irate moodiness, screeching, and name-calling. Though, of course, he still preferred getting her riled up for a verbal spar. But that didn't mean he didn't like being able to get along with her from time to time.

_A/N: Majority vote wins: Friday 17-5...so here's the early chapter. Next update will be Monday. Now off to a wedding I go..._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	53. Rift

Rift

Chi-Chi was chopping up vegetables for the soup she was making for dinner when she heard a knock on her front door. She checked the clock and saw that it was already time for her weekly spar with Bulma. After Goku and Vegeta's fight, the women decided they didn't need to have a spar three times a week, so they only met on Saturday afternoons now. It was an ideal time, when Goku was training with Raditz – who Chi-Chi was still slowly warming up to – and Gohan went fishing or hiking with Krillin. Chi-Chi didn't ask if Piccolo hung around because she honestly didn't want to know. She preferred believing Gohan was spending time away from his two bad 'uncles.'

Wiping her hands on her apron, the young housewife went to answer the door. She gave a strained smile when she saw Bulma. "Hello, Bulma. You're a bit early, I'm still working on dinner. You'll have to wait a few minutes."

"That's fine. I'm in no hurry." Bulma, too, gave a strained smile and went inside when Chi-Chi stepped aside to allow her entrance. They went into the kitchen where Bulma sat at the table and Chi-Chi resumed chopping vegetables at the counter. "How have you been this week?"

Chi-Chi sighed and pushed the vegetables off the cutting board into the soup pot with her knife. "It's been fine. Same routine every day. I get up and make breakfast so Goku can go train in that _gravity room_ all morning while I prepare lunch. Then he goes and trains with that – that brother of his all afternoon while I prepare dinner. Then he comes home all beat up, dumps his dirty clothes on me to wash, and takes a nice, relaxing bath. And after dinner he trains more! And now Gohan wants to train all day like his father. I don't mind him training a little, he needs his exercise, but all day, Bulma? All day? He's a child! He needs to be inside studying!"

Bulma only half-listened, occasionally grunting her agreement or nodding emphatically. She heard essentially the same rant every Saturday. It wasn't news to her anymore that Chi-Chi wasn't happy with her husband training all day and her son wanting to train too. "I know what you mean, Chi," she mumbled.

"It's all because of that fight Vegeta started," Chi-Chi continued. "Now Goku thinks he has to train even more to get stronger than him."

The blue-haired woman rolled her eyes. "Goku helped start that fight too, Chi."

Blatantly ignoring her guest, Chi-Chi ranted on, "Vegeta has been a terrible influence on everyone! He tells us this freezer idiot is coming and suddenly everyone has to train all day long! And if it weren't for him, Raditz never would have come here, and he wouldn't have ever started this whole thing! We could have—" she started sobbing dramatically "—we could have gone on living happily and never been pulled into his mess!"

Bulma slapped her hand against the table, finally gaining Chi-Chi's attention. "Chi! You can't blame Vegeta for everything! He's doing his best to protect us! Goku and the others _need_ to be stronger so they can defeat Frieza when he comes."

"Protect us?" Chi-Chi hissed. "You think he's trying to protect us? You mean like how he protected Goku when he started that awful fight that almost got my husband killed – again?"

Bulma shot to her feet, knocking her chair over backwards. She pointed accusingly at Chi-Chi as she yelled, "Chi-Chi! Either you stop blaming Vegeta for that fight or I'm leaving and I'm not coming back unless you apologize!"

"Blaming him for what? For what he did?" Chi-Chi's voice somehow managed to raise above Bulma's. "Fine then, get out of here! I don't _want_ you to visit if you're going to keep defending that creep!"

"Fine, you crazy psycho!"

"Spoiled bitch!"

The outside door to the kitchen flew open and Goku and Raditz came running inside. Goku stopped when he saw Bulma and Chi-Chi glaring daggers at each other. "Chi, honey, what's going on?"

Chi-Chi angrily turned to her husband and pointed at Bulma. "She's still defending Vegeta! I want her out of my house!"

"Yeah, and I was just leaving," Bulma snarled. She pushed past the saiyans and went outside where she threw her jet capsule on the ground and hopped in the pilot seat.

Goku turned to his wife when he heard Bulma's jet take off. "Is that all this was about?"

"What do you mean is that all?" Chi-Chi screamed.

"The fight, Chi-Chi," he said, holding his hands up defensively. "It wasn't that big of a deal, really!"

Raditz laid his hand on Goku's shoulder. "I'd better go, Kakarrot. I'll see you tomorrow." Before Goku could protest, the larger saiyan made his exit, quietly closing the door behind him, and took off for Capsule Corporation to attempt a little damage control if he could. This feud between Bulma and the rest of her friends was really getting out of hand. For the past month tensions had been high between them. He admired Bulma for sticking up for Vegeta, but he didn't like seeing the anger between the two parties. He still wasn't on the best of terms with the z-fighters, but he recognized them as allies against Frieza and wanted to earn their trust if he could.

Bulma landed her jet in the back yard of the compound. She was absolutely livid. She couldn't understand two things. The first was why her friends were still so worked up over the fight Goku and Vegeta had. They were both fine, no harm done, and actually it made both of them a whole lot stronger. The second thing was why her friends insisted Vegeta was the sole instigator of the fight when Goku had _admitted_ he played a role in starting it. She didn't really expect them to suddenly decide to trust Vegeta – he had to earn that – but why wouldn't they at least give him a chance? It was infuriating! She was fed up with trying to get everyone to see her side. If they wanted to hold a grudge against Vegeta, they were going to have to hold it against her too, because she wasn't going to switch sides.

Without bothering to capsulate her jet, Bulma started toward the compound, then paused. She glanced over at the gravity room, which was, as usual, running. She turned around and marched over to the gravity room and started banging on the door. After a minute she heard the simulator powering down and the door opened, revealing a sweat-soaked, flame-haired saiyan.

"What do you want, girl?

She straightened her back, drawing herself up to her full height. "I'm pissed off!"

"Yes, I gathered that. What am I supposed to do about it?" He felt her fluctuating ki miles away. He knew before she came that she was upset about something.

"I don't know!" she yelled, balling her hands into fists. She tried to push past him into the gravity room, but he held his arm out to bar her way. Frustrated, she started beating her fists against his solid chest. "I'm sick and tired of everyone hating you!"

Vegeta grabbed her wrists and held her hands away from him. "It doesn't matter that they hate me."

"Yes it does!" She tried to break free of his hold, but she was unsuccessful. "It does when they're making me choose between you and them! I know _you_ don't care that they hate you, but I do!"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not being ridiculous!" she screeched. She couldn't hold it back anymore. She started crying as her knees buckled under her weight. "My friends all hate me and they hate you and I can't stand it anymore!"

Vegeta pulled her to her feet, forcing her to stand. He was not in the mood for her melodrama. "Girl, since when have you ever given a damn what other people thought of you?"

"They're not just _people_, Vegeta, they're my friends."

"If these so-called friends of yours hate you because of me, they're not friends and not worth your time. Now stop your crying and go bother someone else."

"Why?" she moaned, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. "Do you hate me too?"

He rolled his eyes. "You are an idiot."

A fresh wave of tears fell from her eyes and he had to turn away when he saw her bottom lip trembling. Any second now the bawling was going to start and he didn't want to hear it. "Vegeta! Don't you even care?"

He sighed. "What the hell am I supposed to do, girl? Go apologize for something I'm not sorry about?"

Bulma hardly knew what she was doing as she drew her fist back and swung at his head, but she was disappointed when he raised his arm and easily blocked her punch. Angrier than ever, she threw her other fist at him, but he spun around and caught it. "I just want you to give a damn!" she screamed. She yanked her fist free and tried punching him, again and again she swung at him but he was always able to block or evade her hits. It only took a few minutes for her to tire herself out. When she did, she leaned against him and wrapped her arms around him for support.

"You're being foolish, girl," he told her. Still, he wrapped one arm around her waist and waited patiently for her to gather her wits.

She cried silently for a few minutes before she drew in a deep, shaky breath and sighed. "I'm sorry, Vegeta. I don't know what's wrong with me, I'm just—I'm just—"

"Menstruating."

Bulma's cheeks flushed a deep crimson. She was glad he couldn't see her face, since it was still buried in his chest. She tried to sidestep admitting he was right by asking, "Do I even want to know how you know that word?"

He shrugged. "Your mother explained it to me when I mentioned you smelled like blood the first month I was here."

"Vegeta!" she squeaked, "That is so embarrassing! You can smell it?"

He snorted. "How could I not?"

"Okay, I'm sorry, but that is too awkward. Please never mention this conversation ever again, and never, ever say anything about my period ever again or I will die of embarrassment."

He wondered why she was embarrassed by a natural bodily process. It wasn't as if it was anything she could help, so why be ashamed of it? Didn't humans regard fertility positively? Shouldn't she be _proud_ of being able to bear offspring? He would never figure humans out. They were an enigma and hardly worth the effort it would take to understand them.

Figuring she was finished with her emotional breakdown, he pushed her away and stepped back into the gravity room. "I need to train, girl."

"Oh, yeah, sure," she murmured. She waved and turned to go to the compound. She felt better after talking to Vegeta, if she could call it that. More like trying to beat him up and failing miserably. But it was a cathartic experience and got most of her anger and aggression out. She wiped the tear stains off her cheeks and smiled slightly. She was definitely letting her emotions get the best of her. Vegeta was right. She was being ridiculous. Her friends didn't hate her. They were just having a minor disagreement that would be resolved soon enough.

Bulma walked into the kitchen to get a snack and found Raditz searching through the refrigerator for a much larger snack. "Oh…hey, Raditz. I thought you were at Goku's."

He stood up when he heard her, banging his head on the freezer door. He winced a little and rubbed his head nonchalantly. "Yeah, I was. I came back here after your argument with Chi-Chi."

She covered her mouth with her hand to hide her giggle. "Why?"

"Honestly? I'm tired of this shit between you and everyone else over that fight."

"Well put." Bulma opened the refrigerator door and picked out some cheese. "I don't know what you hope to accomplish by coming back here instead of training though." She opened a cupboard and grabbed a box of crackers.

"I guess I was hoping to talk to you."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Talk away."

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Look, I feel like I'm in the middle here, too. I serve Vegeta. He's my prince. But Goku is my brother and I don't want to fuck it up with him again. I can't choose sides here, and neither can you."

Bulma started cutting off small pieces of the cheese and put it on the crackers. "It's too late for that. I've already picked a side. I'm sticking with Vegeta."

"You would put him above the rest of your friends?"

"Of course. He's family." Bulma ate one of the crackers and crossed her arms over her chest. "I knew him before I knew any of them and if I don't stand by him, who will? You're on the fence and no one honestly cares about Nappa's opinion because they all hate him too."

Raditz was struck by her loyalty to Vegeta. It seemed stronger than his own, and that didn't set well with him. Had he become so soft that he would put his brother before his prince? He shoved that thought aside. "Kakarrot is coming here."

"Let him come. I don't care anymore. I don't want to see him."

"I'm more concerned about Vegeta's reaction to his visit."

"He's training. He probably won't even notice he's here." Bulma ate another cracker and opened the refrigerator to pull out a bottle of water.

"I wouldn't bet on that." Raditz walked across the kitchen and looked out the window. He saw his brother landing on the front lawn and sighed. Vegeta's ki spiked the moment Goku's feet touched the ground.

Raditz left the kitchen and went to answer the door before Goku could even ring the doorbell. "What are you doing here, Kakarrot?"

Goku frowned. "I want to know why you took off. And where's Bulma? I'd like to talk to her."

"She's—"

"Right here," Bulma growled as she came out into the hallway. "What is there to talk about?"

Goku stepped across the threshold and held his hands out to Bulma, pleading with her to give him a chance. "Bulma, what is going on between you and Chi-Chi? She seemed pretty mad."

"I think you know what's going on, Goku," she spat. "Everyone thinks you're Mr. Perfect and Vegeta is Mr. Evil-Bad-Man-Who-Tried-to-Kill-You. Krillin, Tien, and now Chi-Chi have told me how much they don't like him. Piccolo probably would have told me his opinion on the matter if he weren't the silent type! They don't trust him and they think he was the only one who started that stupid fight you had! It wasn't even that big of a deal and now it's blown out of proportion and I wouldn't care, but I hate that Vegeta is being the one blamed for it. And what I _really _hate is that they're all using it as an excuse to try to get me to kick Vegeta out of my home!"

"Whoa, whoa, Bulma, they _what_?"

Bulma rested one hand on her hip and raked the other through her hair. "They want me to throw him out. He's 'dangerous.' Krillin's come over more than once to plead with me to get rid of him and Tien stopped by a few days ago to say the same thing. And Chi's been telling me about the same thing every week I come to spar with her."

Goku rubbed the back of his head and frowned. "I didn't know they were saying that. But Bulma, honestly, I don't think you should trust him. He's done terrible things, and—"

"That's in the past, Goku," she said icily. "I thought you were all about second chances? Get out of my house."

"What?" Goku pouted. "You're not serious."

A low growl erupted behind Bulma. "You heard her, Kakarrot."

Bulma whirled around when she heard that voice, low, deep, threatening. "Vegeta, what are you doing in here? I thought you were training in the gravity room."

The saiyan prince stalked up to them until he stood next to Bulma with his foot extended in front of her, protecting her. His tail lashed behind him. "Why the hell are you just standing there, Raditz? Get your idiot brother out of here."

Raditz looked helplessly between his prince and his brother, torn between his loyalties. "But Vegeta—"

"What's your problem?" Goku demanded.

"She told you to get out," Vegeta snapped.

Bulma grabbed Vegeta's arm to hold him back. She could feel the tension in his muscles, wound up and ready to pounce. "Please, Vegeta, don't do anything to him. He can find his own way out."

Goku gaped at Bulma, obviously hurt. "But Bulma! How can you choose him?"

"What do you mean how can I choose him?" she asked exasperatedly. "Goku, I'm sorry, but until this mess is sorted out, I don't want you coming around here. Maybe _you_ can get the others to back off. Let me know when you do."

Vegeta's lip curled over his long canines in a warning snarl to the younger saiyan. He pushed Bulma behind him and stepped forward, ready to fight if he didn't leave. Goku looked from his brother, to Bulma, to Vegeta. He may not have known much about saiyan culture, but he still knew Vegeta was acting possessively toward Bulma. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. He couldn't explain why, but seeing Vegeta defending Bulma from him made him feel jealousy like he had never experienced before. He growled.

"Kakarrot, what the hell are you doing?" Raditz hissed.

"Be quiet, Raditz!" Goku barked.

"What the hell is wrong with you two?" Bulma shouted as she tried to push past Vegeta. He shoved her back with his tail, nearly knocking her to the floor. "Guys?"

Goku's foot slid forward. "Don't hurt her!"

Vegeta snapped his teeth at the tailless saiyan. "Stay away from her."

"Would you stop?" Raditz tried to intervene. "Kakarrot, get the hell out of here!"

"Goku," Bulma said firmly, "I choose Vegeta. Leave."

Goku snarled at Vegeta as he straightened and turned to leave. "Fine, I'll go." He managed to hide the hurt in his voice. He felt rejected by one of the people he loved the most. Bulma was more than a friend to him. In a way, she was like a family member. He didn't know it, but he considered her a part of his pack. She was one of his own, along with all their warrior friends. She wasn't as strong, but she was, in a way, the leader of the pack, the one who brought them all together. Being rejected by her was agonizing. And it was all because of Vegeta. He didn't hate the saiyan prince before, but he did now. He stole Bulma.

"Kakarrot, wait!" Raditz called after him. He glanced over his shoulder at Bulma, as if to tell her they would talk later, and ran after his brother.

"What, Raditz?" Goku growled.

"This fighting is pointless! You know we only have about a year before Frieza gets here. We've spent a whole year training and your friends still don't like me. I can't say I blame them, but Goku, we're allies in this fight. If we're fighting amongst ourselves, we're going to be a weak force for Frieza to contend with. You've got to do _something_ to make them see that!"

Shaking his head, Goku levitated off the ground a few feet, ready to fly home. "Maybe you trust him, but I don't. I need to get home. I'll see you for training tomorrow." He flared his ki and blasted off into the sky.

Raditz was left standing in the yard alone. He looked up at the sky and sighed. He stood still for a few minutes, the cool September breeze blowing his hair around him. Bulma chose sides. Everyone else had chosen sides. But he hadn't. He knew their only chance at defeating Frieza was to work together. And how could he choose sides? He was still amazed that Bulma had. 'Where the hell is Nappa? Maybe he'll know what to do.'

He decided to go find the old saiyan. If nothing else, talking about the situation might help him come up with a solution. Apparently Bulma wasn't interested in helping. She expected Goku to make everything right, but he was too mad at Vegeta for taking away his friend to try making peace. Raditz sighed again. Why were the shit jobs always left up to him?

...

The doorbell rang. Bulma considered ignoring it, but no one else was home to answer it. Her father was working at headquarters, Vegeta and her mother had gone grocery shopping, Raditz was training at Goku's, and Nappa…well, even if he wasn't busy training in the back yard, she wouldn't want him to answer the door. Throwing her wrench down on the table, she left her laboratory to go answer the door. She was walking through the hall when the doorbell rang again. She rolled her eyes. Whoever was at the door needed to learn some patience.

She paused a moment before opening the door. "Krillin. What a surprise."

The short man rubbed his head. "Good to see you too, Bulma."

"Why are you here?"

His eyes shifted around nervously. It was so like her to cut to the chase when she wasn't in a good mood. He had hoped she would be a little more cheerful. "I heard you had an argument with Goku a few days ago."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "What's your point?"

"Are you sure Vegeta is worth this?" He sighed. "I mean, we're your friends. We're worried about you."

Bulma scoffed. "Worried about _me_? What is there to be worried about? The fact that I'm not willing to throw my _oldest_ friend under the bus because you're all a bunch of testosterone-filled meatheads?"

"It's – it's just that…" He didn't know what else to say. He practiced having a conversation with her a dozen times, but she never responded the way he would have hoped and so he had nothing to say to her. "I've talked with the guys, and well…"

"You're upset that I'm taking Vegeta's side."

"Well, yes, but that's not what I meant to say…"

"Then what did you mean to say?" she snapped.

"We don't want you to be mad at us."

"I'll stop being mad at you when you get over yourselves and admit you're wrong about Vegeta. I know he's rough around the edges, but he's not evil. Let me know when you realize that." She slammed the door shut and went back to her laboratory to resume working on one of Vegeta's training bots, but she was too distracted by her thoughts.

'Seriously, he doesn't want me to be mad anymore? I don't think it's unfair for me to be mad when they're wrongfully hating Vegeta!' She sat on the stool at her workstation and held her chin in her hand. 'I don't want this dumb fight to keep going either, but I want them to see that Vegeta isn't a bad guy. He's … he's actually kind of sweet in his own weird way underneath that tough-guy façade. Okay, maybe not sweet, but there's more to him than an evil killer. I love all my friends but I love Vegeta too. I love him a lot.'

Two days after Krillin's short visit to Capsule Corporation, he stopped by Goku's house. He wasn't surprised when he found the gravity room running and there was the unmistakable noise of ki blasts, shockwaves as blows were block or hit, and grunts of pain coming from within. He went to the door and knocked.

The gravity simulator powered down, then the door opened. Goku stepped out into the late September sun, wiping sweat from his brow with an already sweat-soaked towel. "Hey, Krillin! What's up?"

The short man grinned at his best friend. "Not much, just came by for a visit. How ya doing?"

Goku shrugged and walked over to sit in the grass. "Doing alright, I guess. How 'bout you?"

"Doing okay."

"Hey Raditz!" Goku craned his neck to look back at the gravity room. "Why don't you come out and take a break?"

A few seconds later Raditz emerged from the gravity room, tugging a shirt down over his head. He pulled his hair out of the shirt as he sat down near Goku. "Hello, Krillin."

"Hey."

Raditz noticed how his brother's best friend was still fidgety and nervous around him. It was a reasonable reaction, given their first meeting, but he was still disappointed that in a year he hadn't gained more trust than that. In all that time he had never stepped out of line, never threatened anyone, but the earthling warriors still avoided him.

"So have you talked to Bulma lately?" Krillin asked Goku.

"No," he grumbled. "I guess she doesn't consider me her friend anymore. Won't answer the phone when I call and last time I went to see her she threw me out."

Raditz groaned. "Kakarrot, don't be stupid. She's still your friend! She's just mad at you because you hate Vegeta."

Goku glowered at his older brother. "What would you know?"

"Hello, I live with her," Raditz reminded him. "She's not happy about this stupid fight either. She wants it to be over, but she wants you guys to give Vegeta a chance. Is that so much to ask? He's not hurting anyone and he isn't going to. He's working his ass off harder than all of us to be ready for Frieza."

"Why should I give him a chance?" Goku asked sullenly.

"Why did you give _me_ a chance?"

"I'm still wondering that," Krillin muttered.

"Because," Goku said, "Because – because you actually made an effort to gain my trust."

"And you want Vegeta to do the same."

"It wouldn't kill him," Krillin commented.

Raditz glared at him, not appreciating his input. Krillin gulped and averted his eyes. Satisfied, Raditz turned to Goku. "Kakarrot, you can't ask that of him. I know you can't understand this, but he will _never_ try to gain _anyone's _trust because he doesn't trust anyone. It's kind of a foreign concept to him, I guess."

"That's not an excuse," Goku insisted.

"Brother, you don't get it," Raditz continued, somewhat exasperated. "You didn't grow up under Frieza like he did. You never knew what it meant to be handed over by your own father to be a slave to a monster. You don't know the kind of people he grew up around. _They're_ evil, Kakarrot. You think he's bad? He is what he is because he had to learn to survive with real monsters. It's a miracle he trusts me and Nappa, after what happened a few years ago. And he trusts the Briefs. I know you don't know much about saiyan culture, but he considers them his pack, Kakarrot. He would die for them. He cares for them."

Goku looked down at his hands and sighed. "Why have you never mentioned this before?"

"I'm not sure he'd want me to. He still thinks attachments are weaknesses," Raditz admitted. "And he doesn't want anyone to know about his past. He wants to forget it himself, but he can't. You couldn't imagine what life has been like for him. You've all seriously misjudged him. He's not bad, deep down."

"You know," Goku said thoughtfully, "Yamcha, Tien, Chiaotzu, and Piccolo all used to be my enemies. But they all became good guys. I guess you have too."

Krillin nodded. He leaned back and looked up at the sky. He had tried not to listen, not to allow Raditz to persuade him to change his opinion of the saiyan prince, but how could he not? Goku was right. Most of their gang used to be 'bad guys.' Maybe Vegeta would be the same way. Maybe he just needed to be given a chance.

Raditz stood up and patted the grass off his training shorts. "Well, how about we get back to training?"

Goku stood up and stretched. "Yeah, let's go. Why don't you stay for dinner, Krillin? Just let Chi-Chi know."

"Thanks, Goku," Krillin said. He watched the saiyan brothers as they disappeared into the gravity room. A couple minutes later the low hum of the gravity simulator started. He shook his head as he made his way over to the house. Those saiyans never seemed to want to stop training. He understood why Goku was always such a natural at fighting and why he always looked forward to a challenge now. It was in his blood. Saiyans were warriors, through and through. So was Vegeta. And he was fighting on their side. Didn't that mean he deserved their trust, as an ally?

…

Two saiyan space pods landed at the base, but the hatches did not immediately open. In fact, they didn't open until they were manually opened by one of the soldiers who was sent to meet the saiyans on arrival. He stumbled back from the pods when he found them empty aside from the scouters lying in the seats. Where were the saiyans, if not in their pods? He gulped, knowing he would have to be the one to report to Lord Frieza.

Luckily for him, Lord Frieza was not currently on Base 108. About five months ago, after he finally found some information about some sort of wish-granting dragon, he left for a small planet called Namek, somewhere in galaxy XR. The soldier, a purple reptilian humanoid, raised his shaky hand to his scouter and pushed the button to contact the technicians on Lord Frieza's spaceship. He felt a cold sweat breaking on his face and neck. He was just the messenger, but he was afraid he would be killed for what the saiyans did anyway.

It took a few minutes for the transmission to connect. He nearly jumped out of his scaly skin when he heard someone speak. "You have contacted Lord Frieza's ship, soldier. Report."

The soldier took a deep breath. "The—the saiyan pods have just arrived on B-Base 108." He swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut as he continued his report. "The pods, they were – they were empty, sir. It was just th-their scouters inside. The saiyans are s-still on p-planet 1076XR. Over."

"Copy. Forwarding the report to Lord Frieza. Stand by."

The reptilian soldier had to wait several minutes before he heard a voice on the other end again. During that time, he sank to his knees on the landing pad, his legs no longer able to bear his weight. He was surely going to be killed for being the unfortunate one to send the report.

"Soldier, do you read?"

"Copy."

"Lord Frieza will deal with the saiyans personally. Move their ships to the hangar. Have the scouters taken offline and retrieve all information on planet 1076XR from them. Out."

The soldier released a breath he hadn't known he was holding as he pushed himself to his feet. He sent the orders to have the pods taken to the hangar and took the scouters out of them. So far, at least, his life was spared. He hoped Lord Frieza would be merciful. He turned around to head back into the control tower when two soldiers appeared at the door. Without a word, they raised their weapons, aimed at him, and fired.

Frieza did not receive news of the saiyans well. Though he remained calm on the outside – aside from shattering the glass of wine he was holding in his hand – he was enraged. How dare the monkey prince think he could outsmart him? And how _dare_ he disobey orders? His plan was ruined! He had waited nearly two decades to see it come to fruition, but now it was ruined! He didn't know how, but something must have gone wrong. Something triggered a memory, Nappa told him what happened, it didn't matter. All the waiting, the anticipation, for nothing.

Vegeta would pay. 'Just wait, you foolish monkey scum! I'm going to make my wish on Namek and you'll never be able to defeat me! And then I'll go to that puny little planet and smite you and your disgusting race once and for all.' Frieza's nails dug holes into the armrests of his throne as he fought to keep his anger in check. Vegeta would pay. Yes, he would pay with his life. He favored him, pampered him, gave him a home, provided for his needs, trained him, protected him. But no more. Vegeta was a rebel and he would be killed.

The small tyrant glanced at the five large dragon balls gathered in the throne room of his ship and smirked. Only two more to go before he could make his wish for immortality. Terrorizing the Namekians was amusing, but it was time to finish his task and move on to his next order of business. It had already taken him three months to travel around Namek, trying to find the tiny villages to take the dragon balls. He could have gone much faster had he felt pressed for time. Well, it didn't matter either way. Soon he would have his wish and he could leave the miserable planet, putting it up for market on the planet trade, and travel to 1076XR to end a rebellion before it ever had a chance to really begin.

_A/N: There's your regularly scheduled Frieza update, even though Frieza updates aren't really that regular. Does that put a damper on things? I certainly hope so. What do you think will happen? Will Frieza get his wish? Only time will tell!_

_Well, second wedding of the summer done. Only one more that I'm in, then going to another one a week after that. So that means there should only be one more weird update (probably a day late for that one, but don't worry, that's not for a couple weeks)._

_I finished chapter 62 and I've been working on 63 for a couple days. It's been giving me problems, but I think I've finally come up with a way to end it satisfactorily. Then on to 64, which begins the real exciting stuff. Another point of interest: I'm considering adding a chapter to this story, making it a total of 73 chapters. Tell me, my dear readers, would you like it to be extended another chapter, or is it already getting too ridiculously long? I would appreciate your input on the matter._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	54. Revival

Revival

Bulma grinned and set the last of the devices on her desk in her laboratory. Finally completed. There were five of them, and they were all working properly. She carefully packed them into her brown leather messenger bag and ran out of her laboratory. Her friends were waiting for her upstairs. The tension had eased between them over the past two weeks and they were back on good terms with each other. Perfect timing, because she needed their help now. She ran down the hall to the living room where they were gathered.

"Hey everyone," she said as she came into the room. She looked around at them all; Raditz and Nappa standing near the door, Goku and Gohan sitting on the floor in front of the couch where Tien, Chiaotzu, Krillin, and Roshi were seated, Oolong and Puar sitting with Launch in one of the recliners, Vegeta sitting by himself on the loveseat, and Piccolo hovering off the floor in the corner meditating. "I just checked them all and they're ready."

"That's great, Bulma," Goku cheered. "You ready to get your fiancé back?"

Bulma's grin broadened. "Yeah, I'm ready! Okay, so here's the plan…" she opened her bag and pulled the dragon radars out, then went around the room handing them to Gohan, Goku, Krillin, and Tien. "We're all going to be traveling in groups. Raditz and Goku will be Team 1. Team 2 will be me, Nappa, and Vegeta. Tien, Chiaotzu, and Launch are Team 3, Roshi, Oolong, Puar, and Krillin will be Team 4, and Piccolo and Gohan are Team 5. Any questions so far?"

No one raised any questions, so Bulma continued, "We have to find all the dragon balls today. We used them exactly one year ago and Vegeta and Nappa arrived exactly one year ago. So, that means we have to make our wish today if we want to bring everyone back who died."

Oolong frowned and crossed his arms. "And what happens if we don't find them all?"

Bulma's smile faltered. "Then they can't be brought back." She cleared her throat. "So you see, we have to work fast. Teams 1 and 2 will both be searching for two balls since their members move the fastest. Once you've found your ball, go to Mount Paozu and wait."

Gohan raised his hand. "Shouldn't we help find more balls if we get our ball right away?"

The blue-haired leader shook her head. "No, we need you to get to take your ball to the designated meeting spot as soon as you get it and stay there so if any whack-job tries to come steal them, there'll be someone there to keep them safe. Chi-Chi will be there, but if more than one person comes, she might have trouble. We're not taking any chances with this operation."

"Do you really think anyone else will be looking for the balls this time?" Tien asked.

Bulma shrugged. "I hope not. It would save us a lot of time if we don't have to fight for them for once."

Krillin laughed. "Yeah, and no more pirate robots!"

Bulma chuckled. "Alright, if you're holding a dragon radar, turn it on." There were five beeps. "Okay, you should be able to see all seven balls now. Team 1 will get the balls in the east quadrant, districts 390 and 143. Team 2, south quadrant 691 and 512. Team 3 will get the ball in west quadrant 885. Team 4 will get the ball in west quadrant district 1039, and Team 5, your ball is in north quadrant 1167. Does everyone know where you're going?"

Everyone nodded or grunted in the affirmative, so Bulma reached into her bag and pulled out four capsule cases. "These cases are packed with everything you should need. Submarines, weapons, excavation tools, jets, cars, extra food, and money." She handed the cases around and then reached into her bag again. "These are communication devices, modeled after the saiyans' scouters. I have one for each team so we can talk if we need to. Don't be afraid to ask for help if you need it and please report when you've found your dragon ball. Okay, guys, I think that's everything, so if you're ready, let's go!"

The others all stood up, some stretching and yawning, and headed outside to get started on the hunt for the dragon balls. It was different, searching for them in groups like this. They never had so many people on the same side looking for them before. It would hopefully go much faster. They didn't have days or weeks to travel around the planet. They had one day to do it, and damnit they were going to do it.

Bulma was the last one to leave the compound. She was wearing a pair of hiking boots, jeans, a sweater, and a light jacket, but goose bumps rose on her arms in the chilly October morning air. She stood on the front step, watching her friends take off into the sky to begin their searches. There was only one team using a jet because only one member could fly. That was why she gave Team 4 the closest dragon ball since they would be the slowest.

Honestly, she didn't know if they needed so many groups. They could all fly pretty fast, but she didn't want to take any chances. Better to have it done with plenty of time to spare than to wait until the last minute. She descended the last step and tucked her dragon radar and capsule case in her bag. She put the communicator on and walked over to where Vegeta and Nappa were waiting for her. "Alright, guys, what do you say we go find those dragon balls?"

"About time," Vegeta grumbled. He wrapped his arms around Bulma and took off to the south with Nappa close behind. They flew high in the atmosphere where the air was thin and cold. Bulma was glad Vegeta was holding her. Her sweater and jacket wouldn't have been enough to keep her warm, but his body heat and ki formed a comfortable cocoon around her.

When they had been flying for over an hour, Bulma pulled her dragon radar out of her bag and pushed the button. Immediately seven dots lit up across the grid. She pushed it again to zoom in on the closest dragon ball. They were getting close. It was about fifty miles farther southeast. "Hey, Vegeta, you need to head east a little more." She showed him the dragon radar, and, after receiving a nod from the saiyan, returned the radar to her bag.

They landed a few minutes later in a marshland. Bulma's nose wrinkled in disgust as her feet sank into the mud. She used the dragon radar to find the location of the dragon ball, Vegeta and Nappa flanking her. She wasn't really watching where she was going, her eyes instead glued to the dragon radar, so she was surprised when she was yanked back by her jacket.

"What the heck—"

"Watch where you're going, girl," Vegeta snapped. He pointed to the ground in front of her. Well, really the lack of ground. She almost stepped into a pool of murky water. It was hard to tell how deep it was.

"Oh. Thanks, Vegeta." She looked at her radar, then at the water. She grimaced. "Uh, guys, I think the ball's in there."

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Of course it is. Nappa, find it."

"Why do I have to do it?" the tall saiyan griped. Receiving a withering glare from his prince, he stepped into the water. He sank down until he was waist deep. "How far out is it?"

Bulma pushed the button on the radar again to hone in on it. "I'd guess about 15 feet, straight ahead."

While Nappa ventured deeper in the water, which, by the time he was 15 feet out, was up to his shoulders, Bulma received a transmission on her communicator. "How does this thing work? – Give me that! – Hey, I was doing – Shut up! Can everyone hear me? Whatever, this is Team 1. We've got the five star dragon ball from east 143. Heading to east 390. Out."

Bulma laughed as she listened to the transmission. When Vegeta quirked his eyebrow to inquire what was so funny, she told him, "Goku and Raditz got the five star ball."

"Hey, I think I found it!" Nappa called over to them.

"So get it!" Vegeta shouted back.

"Aw, come on! Don't you have something I can use to get it so I don't have to go down there?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "You're already in up to your neck, what difference does it make?"

"That is so gross," Bulma muttered. "He's going to stink the rest of the day. This place reeks."

"He always stinks."

"Granted."

"I heard that!"

"Shut up and get the ball!"

"Alright!" Nappa took a deep breath and disappeared underwater. He was only down there for a few seconds before he shot out of the water, holding the six star ball. "I got it!"

"Good job, Nappa," Bulma said. She took the ball from him after he flew over to them and wiped it off on her jeans before putting it in her bag. She pushed the button on her communicator to send a transmission to all the others. "Hey everyone, this is Team 2. We just found the six star ball in south 512. Out."

Vegeta picked Bulma up and levitated off the ground. "What way?"

She got the dragon radar out of her bag and pushed the button. "Southwest about two hundred miles." She showed him the radar again before putting it back in her bag. "Let's go!"

...

Piccolo and Gohan landed in their district near where the dragon ball was supposed to be. Gohan sank into the snow up to his shoulders and immediately started shivering. He hadn't dressed for a blizzard when he left home. Piccolo only sank into the snow up to his knees, and he didn't feel the cold. He was again thankful for his immunity to extreme temperatures.

"Where is it, Gohan?"

The young demi-saiyan took his dragon radar out of his pocket and pushed the button three times. Through chattering teeth he managed to say, "Th-that w-way, Mr. P-Piccolo." He pointed to the northeast. "T-twenty yards ab-bout."

Master and student trudged through the deep snow in the direction the radar indicated. Gohan wrapped his arms around himself and rubbed his arms with his hands, but by the time they trekked twenty yards, he felt like he was frozen stiff. He had an icicle hanging from his nose and snow collected in his thick, wild hair.

"Should be around here, huh?" Piccolo asked. He kicked the snow. "Well, let's start digging."

Nodding, Gohan put the radar in his pocket and started digging through the snow. His hands were frozen and his fingers were turning blue, but he kept digging. Piccolo was not far away, only a few feet, also digging through the snow. He looked over at Gohan and frowned. "Use your ki to keep warm, kid."

Gohan stopped searching for a moment to concentrate on his ki. Soon he had an aura of energy crackling through the air around him, keeping him warm and melting some of the snow around him. He resumed digging and a few minutes later, three feet down in the snow, his fingers brushed against something hard and smooth. He dug deeper until he could pull the object out. He lifted it out of the hole and held it up, jumping around and cheering. "Look, Mr. Piccolo, I found it! It's the four star dragon ball!"

Piccolo grunted and took the ball from him. "Better tell the others."

"Right!" Gohan put the communicator on and pushed the button to send a transmission. "This is Team 5. We got the four star ball in north 1167. Out." He followed Piccolo, who had already started flying south back to Mount Paozu.

…

"Well, I guess it was a good thing Bulma gave us the capsules. Looks like we're going to need a submarine," Tien said. He, Chiaotzu, and Launch stood on a beach looking out at the ocean. The dragon radar indicated their dragon ball was a few miles out, probably at the bottom of the ocean.

"That's for sure," Chiaotzu agreed.

Launch took the capsule case out of her pocket and opened it. "Now which one is the submarine, do you think?"

Tien looked in the case. "I think this one." He pulled out the capsule labeled 80 and pushed the plunger, then tossed it into the water. A small submarine emerged from the puff of smoke.

"Alright! Let's go get the dragon ball!" Chiaotzu said.

Tien, Launch, and Chiaotzu climbed into the submarine and sealed the hatch. Tien took the controls while Chiaotzu was put in charge of navigating with the dragon radar. "Oh no! Tien, it's moving!"

"What? What do you mean it's moving?"

"Look!" Chiaotzu handed the radar over to Tien. Sure enough, it was slowly moving northward. "Do you think someone else found it? What if someone else is looking for the dragon balls?"

"Guess it doesn't matter," Tien said. "Whoever it is, we're taking that ball. We've got to wish everyone back those saiyans killed."

He headed for the dragon ball, the submarine moving much faster than the ball. It took them over an hour to catch up to it, but when they did, they found it wasn't a person who had the dragon ball. They discovered they were chasing a whale.

"What do we do now?" Chiaotzu asked. He had his hands and nose pressed against the glass window, watching the whale lazily swimming on with their dragon ball.

"Oh my, do you think it ate the ball?" Launch asked.

"I don't know," Tien said. "We'll have to find out. Does this submarine have an escape pod I can use to go in the whale's mouth?"

"I would think so," Launch said. She leaned forward to look at the controls. "There, is that it?" She pointed to a big red button.

"Yeah, that controls it, but where is it?" Tien asked. He looked around the small cabin. It wasn't as if it could be hard to find. There were only four seats total and they didn't allow for much leg room. He took the dragon radar as he got out of his seat and moved to the back and felt around the wall until he found a lever. He pulled up on it and a door opened, revealing the escape pod. He climbed into it and sealed the hatch. Once he was ready, Chiaotzu pushed the launch button and Tien was shot out of the submarine.

Tien steered the pod ahead to catch up to the whale. It seemed like an hour dragged by before he finally reached the whale's mouth. Its mouth was open to suck in krill, just wide enough for Tien to guide the pod inside. He turned on the lights so he could see where he was going. He pushed the button on the radar to locate the dragon ball. Luckily, it wasn't farther back, which would mean deeper inside the whale. So it had to be in its mouth somewhere, probably stuck in its baleen. He searched around the whale's mouth for several minutes before he caught a glimmer of orange.

"There it is," he murmured as he carefully guided the pod closer to it. He pushed the button to put out the pod's hands so he could grab the dragon ball. He slowly eased forward until the hands were on either side of the ball, then he grabbed it and yanked it out of the whale's baleen. "Now I just have to get out of here."

Tien turned the pod so he was heading back the way he came in. He was able to slip out of the whale's mouth without a hitch and looked around for the submarine. When he spotted it, he steered the capsule over to it and, when he could see Launch and Chiaotzu, pointed up. They gave him the thumbs up and took the submarine up to the ocean surface. Tien followed them and surfaced a few yards away from them. He opened the hatch and jumped out.

"We got it!" he called over to them. He took the ball and flew over to the submarine where the others were waiting. He handed the ball to Launch and took the communicator from her. He pushed the button and sent a transmission: "This is Team 3. We got the two star ball from west 885. Heading to Mount Paozu. Out."

…

Krillin felt like he had been circling over the forest for hours. It was already after noon and four of the dragon balls had been recovered. His team had reached the district with their dragon ball an hour earlier, but the forest was so thick he couldn't find a place to land the jet. He was getting thoroughly irritated with Master Roshi's backseat driving and Oolong's unwanted negative input, and he was about ready to jump out of the jet and let them fly around while he found the dragon ball himself.

Puar was the only one being even somewhat helpful, looking out the windows on all sides of the jet trying to find a safe landing spot. She flitted back and forth through the jet, clearly excited that she was finally going to get Yamcha back. But, despite trying to be helpful, she was also annoying and distracting and Krillin was about to snap at her to sit down and buckle in.

"There, Krillin!" Puar said, pointing out the window on the passenger side. "I think I see a small clearing, but it should be big enough for the jet to land."

"Where?" Krillin stretched over to see where she was pointing. "I think you're right. Hold on, I'm taking her down."

Ignoring the screaming of his passengers, Krillin descended in a nosedive to the clearing, bringing the jet back to level just before touching down on the ground. It was a good thing Capsule Corporation jets could land like helicopters, otherwise they would never have been able to land in the forest.

After they all got out of the jet, Krillin pointed to the west. "Okay, the ball should be somewhere in this general area, so split up and start looking."

The four team members spent quite a while searching, digging through the dead leaves on the forest floor, looking in rabbit holes or hollows in trees, and overturning stones, but they couldn't find the dragon ball anywhere. Krillin sat down on a tree root and looked at the dragon radar again. It showed that he was practically on top of it. Each time he zoomed in on the dragon ball, it still showed it was right at the center of the grid.

"Boy, I sure am hungry," Oolong griped. "Didn't Bulma say she packed a food capsule?"

Krillin glanced up at the shape-shifting pig and nodded. He pulled the capsule case out of his pocket and handed it over to him. "This is weird. The dragon ball should be right here, but I don't see it anywhere."

Master Roshi walked over to them and looked around on the ground. Krillin had dug through the leaves and the dirt around the tree, but he hadn't found the ball there. Strange. Roshi tilted his head back and looked up at the tree trunk. There were no hollows he could see and no orange orb. "Puar, can you fly up there and see if the dragon ball is anywhere in this tree?"

Puar, who had been peeking under a small rock, turned to them and grinned. "Sure!"

She flew over to them and followed the tree trunk all the way to the top, looking around on every branch for the elusive dragon ball. She was about to give up when she saw a squirrel nest nestled in the crook of two branches, and inside it was the dragon ball. "I found it!" she called down to them as she flew over and picked the dragon ball out of the nest. She lowered herself down to the ground and handed it to Krillin.

"Alright! This is great!" Krillin yelled as he jumped around. "We'd better get to Mount Paozu now. Come on, guys!"

"Can't I at least finish my lunch?" Oolong grumbled. Roshi whacked him on the head with his staff.

Krillin put on the communicator and sent his transmission to the others. "Team 4 has the seven star ball. Out."

…

"So where do you think it is?"

"How should I know?"

The saiyan brothers stood on a mountaintop looking down at a tawny, rugged terrain with dangerous crags, steep bluffs, unwelcoming caves, and deep canyons cutting through the mountains. The sky was overcast with dark clouds tinged orange.

"Well, what's the dragon radar say?"

"You have it."

"Oh, yeah," Goku laughed, rubbing the back of his head, and pulled the radar out of his pocket. He pushed the button and looked at the grid before scanning over the terrain. "It should be in… that direction," he said, pointing vaguely to his left.

Raditz rolled his eyes. "How far?"

Goku pushed the button a couple times. "Uh, it's still pretty far."

"_How_ far?"

The younger saiyan kicked off the ground and slowly flew over the land, watching the blinking dot on the radar moving closer to the center of the grid. "Man, it kind of stinks here."

Raditz flew next to his brother and surveyed the ground as they flew over. "Yes, that would be the smell of brimstone."

"Oh." Goku rubbed his head. "I think I've been here before."

"Why would you ever want to come to this dump?"

"I think this is Frying Pan Plains. Chi-Chi and me had to come here to save her father before we were married. Mount Five Element is around here somewhere. That's where the gate to the Dark World is. I got to meet my grandpa. He was working for the guardian of the furnace." Goku stopped when the dragon ball they were looking for was right in the middle of the grid. "The dragon ball should be straight down."

"Great." Raditz sighed as they dropped to the ground below. He could understand why it was called Frying Pan Plains. The air was sweltering hot, but the ground was even hotter. He could feel it through his boots. The ground was covered in sharp rocks, soot, and sand. Any hope they had of the dragon ball standing out with its bright orange color was shot. The whole land was orange.

Goku started kicking up the dirt and rocks to see if the dragon ball was buried after landing a year ago. "I don't see it anywhere."

"You're sure we were right over it?"

"Yeah, why?"

Raditz looked a few yards farther east and shrugged. "Just wanted to be sure it wasn't in that canyon over there."

"Shouldn't be." Goku got down on his knees and started digging through the rocks, not caring that they were scraping and cutting his skin. "Come on, help me find it."

"Right." Raditz crouched down and started digging.

They had scoured the area for two hours and still hadn't found anything when Goku's stomach growled. "I'm so hungry. Maybe we should stop and eat something before we keep looking."

"What time is it?"

"I don't know. I can't even see the sun with all those clouds." Goku fell over onto his back, sweating and miserable, and clutched his empty stomach.

"You can eat the food Bulma packed. I don't need anything." Raditz handed the capsule case to Goku and put the communicator on. He remembered seeing it had a clock. He turned it on and saw that it was mid-afternoon. They needed to hurry and find the dragon ball so they could get back to Mount Paozu. So far five of the dragon balls had been recovered. They had to be close to finding the sixth. Vegeta's team would probably be finding the last one soon.

Goku grabbed the capsule case and opened the capsule with food in it. He barely stopped to see what all there was before he started eating voraciously, shoving food into his mouth with both hands and barely giving himself time to swallow before he put more in. Raditz's lip curled at the sight.

"While you eat, I'm going to keep looking. I think it's safe to say the dragon ball isn't here. We've dug up fifty square feet. I'll check the canyon just to be sure it's not there."

"Okay!" Goku said, his voice muffled by the gob of food in his mouth. He tossed the dragon radar over to Raditz.

Raditz walked over to the canyon and jumped down from ledge to ledge until he was at the bottom. So far he hadn't seen the dragon ball anywhere. He pushed the button on the radar and saw that there were three dragon balls clustered together far away, probably Mount Paozu. That was a good sign. There were two other balls close together far south, presumably where Team 2 was. And then there were two more dragon balls right next to each other on the grid. The dragon balls he and his brother were supposed to get. They had one, but the other was still missing in action. He zoomed in on the dragon ball they didn't have and found that he was several yards east of it. So it couldn't be in the canyon because it ran north-south.

Still wearing the communicator, he received another incoming transmission. "This is Team 2. We've got the three star dragon ball. We're heading to Mount Paozu now—hey! Don't drop me, you jerk! Team 1, do you have the last dragon ball yet?"

Raditz pushed the button to reply. "This is Raditz. We're still looking for the last dragon ball. We're in Frying Pan Plains. Shouldn't be long 'til we find it. Over."

"Frying Pan Plains? Oh, man. Well, be careful and hurry! It's getting late. Out."

The long-haired saiyan looked around in the canyon and paused when he saw a hole in the wall. He walked over to it and looked inside. It was deep. He stuck his hand in, but he couldn't reach the back of the hole. It felt like it was a hollow in the wall of the canyon with only a small entrance. 'The ball's probably in there. That's why the radar showed we were right above it. We were, but it was underground.'

Raditz gathered a small ball of ki in his hand and threw it at the base of the wall, jumping back to avoid the explosion and flying debris. When the dust settled, he could see a dark, narrow crevice. He didn't know if he could fit in there without getting stuck.

"Hey, Kakarrot!" he yelled. "I need you to get the dragon ball!"

Goku appeared at the top of the canyon, still gnawing on a turkey leg. "Where is it?"

"In there," Raditz said, pointing to the newly opened cave.

Nodding, Goku finished the turkey leg and threw the bone aside. He hopped down to the bottom of the canyon and peered into the narrow crevice. "You sure it's in there?"

"Only one way to find out." Raditz shoved Goku in. "Now hurry up and find it so we can get back to Mount Paozu. Vegeta's team found the last dragon ball and they're heading there now. Everyone's waiting on us."

Goku huffed as he picked his way between the stone walls. "No pressure."

Raditz leaned against the canyon wall and crossed his arms over his chest. If the dragon ball wasn't in there, then he had no idea where it could be. He waited impatiently for a few minutes before he heard Goku yell something.

"I got it!"

"It's about time," Raditz muttered."

There was the sound of feet scuffling around on the dirty, rocky ground and Goku quickly made his way back out to the canyon. "I never would have thought of looking for a dragon ball underground," he said as he emerged, now covered in soot and dust from head to toe.

"That's why you have someone with brains with you," Raditz teased. "Come on, let's go."

"That wasn't very nice!" Goku yelled as he followed Raditz into the air.

Raditz, chuckling, pushed the button on the communicator to send his report. "This is Team 1. We just found the one star ball. We're on our way back – Kakarrot, leave the food – way back to Mount Paozu."

…

The sun was slipping behind the mountains on the horizon at Mount Paozu by the time the two third-class saiyans returned with their dragon balls. The rest of their friends were already there waiting for them, the dragon balls set in the grass, flashing with a brilliant golden light. Goku carried the last two dragon balls over to them and set them down on the ground.

When Bulma saw all the dragon balls laid out, she jumped on Vegeta and hugged him with all her strength. "Thank you, Veggie."

Taken aback, Vegeta tried to pull her off. "Thank you for what?"

"For letting me have my wish." She kissed his cheek and ran over to the dragon balls. "Everyone ready to bring some people back to life?"

Nappa and Raditz grumbled, still not entirely happy that Vegeta's wish was being overlooked this time around. They thought it was more important for him to gain the power to kill Frieza than for a few weakling humans to be brought back to life, but their prince was set to let the blue-haired girl have her way. Vegeta frowned as he watched Bulma summoning the dragon. He, too, would rather make his wish than let her waste the wish, but he gave her his word and he wouldn't break it.

Bulma held her hands over the dragon balls and shouted, "Shenron, by your name I summon you forth to grant my wish!" At first it seemed nothing was happening, but then the seven dragon balls glowed even brighter as the sky darkened with black clouds. Lightning bolts weaved through the clouds as a blinding ray of light shot out of the dragon balls, high into the sky, winding around, taking the shape of a serpent. Within seconds the dragon appeared, hovering over them, his body filling the sky.

"Why have you summoned me?" Shenron's deep voice shook the earth. "Name your wish and I shall grant it."

The blue-haired woman looked over her shoulder at Vegeta, as if asking permission to ask for her wish. Her small smile slipped when he stared back, never nodding, no smile, nothing. She sighed and turned back to the dragon, not wanting to keep him waiting. He was impatient, after all.

"Shenron, I wish for everyone the saiyans killed since their arrival on Earth one year ago to be revived!"

The pause seemed to drag on like years before Shenron's eyes glowed red. "Your wish has been granted." Like fireworks, Shenron turned to light and exploded as the dragon balls rose from the ground and shot out in seven directions to scatter across the globe once again.

"That was anticlimactic," Vegeta muttered.

After the dragon disappeared, Bulma turned around and looked all over. She saw all her friends cheering that the lives were restored, but she didn't see Yamcha among them. The saiyans did not look nearly as pleased, which made her feel a little guilt. She knew they wanted Vegeta to have his wish. She knew he _needed_ his wish to defeat Frieza. Hopefully they would have time to make that wish before he got here.

"So where's Yamcha?" she asked quietly.

"Don't worry, Bulma," Goku said. "Maybe he went to train with King Kai like me and Tien. If he did, he has to go all the way down Snake Way to the check-in station and Kami will get him and take him to the Lookout. He'll be here soon."

Bulma smiled weakly. "I guess so."

"Hey, Bulma," Krillin said, "Do you want your radars and capsules back?"

She shook her head. "Nah, you can keep them. Never know when you'll need them, right? Well, I should be getting back home. My parents will want to hear the news."

"Alright, we'll see you later, Bulma," Krillin said.

Goku gave her a hug before she went over to Nappa and Vegeta. "It was good seeing you."

"Yeah, Goku," she said, her smile growing. "Don't be a stranger at Capsule Corp. Thanks for all your help."

"No problem. And hey, let us know when you finally decide to finish marrying Yamcha. We want to be there!" Krillin laughed.

"Sure, guys. Bye!" Bulma waved to all her friends as she ran over to Vegeta. "You ready to go? I bet Mom's got a big dinner ready for us."

"Hn." Vegeta picked her up and blasted into the sky with Nappa and Raditz following.

After they landed at Capsule Corporation, Bulma put her hands on her hips and looked up at the saiyans pointedly. "Now guys, _when_ Yamcha comes to see me, I want you on your best behavior. He won't be happy to see you, so if he tries to start a fight, _please_ refrain from beating him to death again."

"Aw, that's no fun," Nappa said with a grin.

Bulma laughed. "Maybe not, but I want him to at least stay alive long enough for me to marry him. And Raditz – you're not allowed to interrupt our wedding again, got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," he agreed mockingly.

Bulma didn't really know when the change happened, but sometime after Vegeta spent a few days recovering from his fight with Goku, the other saiyans started treating her respectfully, almost on the same level as Vegeta. They still weren't as comfortable with her as he was, but they seemed to at least be making an effort to get along. They responded to her teasing well and, like now, sometimes even teased her back. She liked them better this way. It made living with them much easier.

Mrs. Brief had indeed prepared a bountiful feast for them, and even the saiyans were getting full before the food had run out. During dinner, Bulma told her parents about their adventures finding the dragon balls, though compared to some of the adventures she had when she was younger, they were pretty blasé. There were no blue midgets seeking world domination, no evil army trying to steal the dragon balls, no dinosaurs tried to eat her, they didn't meet any crazy new friends, nor did they make any new enemies. Really, the most exciting part of the story was the part where Bulma summoned Shenron and wished for everyone –including Yamcha – to be revived.

"So where is he?" Mrs. Brief asked once Bulma finished her tale.

Bulma sighed. "Goku said he might've gone to train with King Kai so it'll take him a while to get back to Earth. I'm sure he'll come here when he's back."

"I hope so, dear," Mrs. Brief said. "I have missed his visits."

"Yeah," Bulma agreed, "And I can finally marry him. I've only waited half my life for it."

"Oh, you're still planning on marrying him?"

Bulma shrugged. Honestly, she hadn't really thought about it. She always figured things would automatically go back to the way they were before he died. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Mrs. Brief's smile dimmed. She stood up and started clearing dishes from the table. "I just thought that since you didn't finish marrying after Raditz came that you weren't going to get married after all."

Did she sound disappointed? Bulma looked at her mother suspiciously. "We were both too busy."

"Of course, dear." Mrs. Brief filled the sink with dishes. She didn't dare face her daughter at the moment. She actually was disappointed that she still wanted to marry Yamcha. He was a nice boy, that wasn't the problem. The problem was that there was much better husband material right under Bulma's nose and she hadn't even noticed.

Vegeta stood up and stretched. He didn't mind spending the day flying around the planet, but there were still a few hours he could spend training. "Your idiot's on his way here. I'm going to go train."

"My idiot? You mean Yamcha?" Bulma asked. But Vegeta had already left the kitchen. She looked over at Nappa and Raditz, but they were actively avoiding eye contact. She sighed and hurried out of the kitchen to go wait for Yamcha outside. She sat on the front step and looked up at the sky, hoping to see him flying toward her.

It was only a few minutes before she saw a white streak of fire shooting through the air, but she was already shivering in the cold October air. She grinned when she saw him and stood up to wave to him.

Yamcha landed in front of her and took her hands in his. "Wow, B, you look even better than I remember." He smiled and pulled her in for a long embrace.

"Yamcha, you're back," she breathed. After waiting an entire year, she had felt like this moment would never come when she was reunited with her lover. She threw her arms around him and held him tight, never wanting to let him go again. "You're really back."

"I sure am, thanks you to." Yamcha lifted her chin and kissed her softly. "I missed you."

Tears glistened in her big blue eyes as she coughed out a laugh, almost a sob. "I missed you too, you big dummy. Promise me you'll never die again."

Yamcha grinned. "Not until I'm old and gray."

She kissed him, then, forcefully, demanding entrance into his mouth with her tongue. What more needed to be said? They were together again, happy as ever. When they finally broke apart for air, Yamcha stepped back from her, though he still held her hands.

"Is Goku here? I thought I felt someone's power."

Bulma freed one of her hands and raked it through her hair. "Actually, no. Goku's home. Um… why don't you come in and sit down?"

One of his eyebrows quirked as she pulled him to the living room. He was made more suspicious when she opened the door and peeked in before tugging on his arm to pull him in. Yamcha sat down on the loveseat and Bulma sat down next to him with her hand resting on his leg. "Now, before you get upset, Yam, I just want you to know that they aren't bad people."

"Who? What are you talking about, B?"

Bulma cleared her throat. "Well, you see, the saiyans…" She paused for a minute, biting her bottom lip. "The saiyans, they're living here with me and my parents."

"They're what?" Yamcha exclaimed as he shot up from his seat. His hands balled into fists as he backed away from Bulma, shaking his head incredulously. "What do you mean they're living here? Bulma, they're the enemy! They killed me! Are they forcing you to house them?"

"No, Yamcha. Please, would you sit down and let me explain?"

"What is there to explain? How you lost your mind?" he shouted.

Bulma sighed and held her head in her hands. She knew he wouldn't be happy about the saiyans staying at Capsule Corporation. She expected him to be angry with her. But whether or not she knew it, it still didn't make his reaction easier to deal with in real life.

"This is a joke, isn't it?" Yamcha asked, searching for a reasonable explanation. "It's really Goku and the others here, and you're just trying to scare me before they jump out and yell 'surprise,' right?"

"No, Yam, I meant—"

Out in the hall, they could hear the kitchen door opening and closing, then two voices conversing.

"Mr. Raditz, did you hear someone yelling?"

There was a snort. "I think it was her fiancé or whatever you called him."

"Oh, my. Are they quarreling already? They never could seem to get along. Their fights were never like the arguments Bulma and Vegeta have…"

Bulma glanced over at Yamcha after the voices faded. He was wearing a shocked expression, gaping at her as the realization that she was telling the truth finally sank in. He pointed to the door. "That was your mother. And Raditz."

"Yep. They get along pretty well." Bulma stood up and rocked forward on the balls of her feet. "Listen, I know you don't like the saiyans. I can't blame you. Nappa _did_ kill you. But please, give them a chance. They're not evil. They've lived here since you died and they've never given any of us trouble."

"Why would you even _let_ them stay here?" he grumbled.

"I knew Vegeta when we were kids," she explained. "I know he's done some bad things since then, but he's still my friend. I trust him."

"You're crazy."

"Maybe." Bulma walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his messy hair. "But let's forget about them, huh? I don't want to fight after you just got back. Did you get to train with King Kai?"

Yamcha still looked uneasy, but he forced a smile. "Yeah. I didn't get there until half the year was over, but I made it. I trained with him the last six months. I'm a lot stronger now."

"Yeah, I can tell," she said, winking at him. She trailed her hands over his shoulders and down his chest. "What do you say we go upstairs, hm?"

"I like the sound of that," Yamcha said. Holding hands, they left the living room and hurried upstairs to Bulma's bedroom.

Vegeta didn't care what the girl did with her scar-faced weakling. Really, he didn't. But when he sensed their ki moving in the compound, he had difficulty keeping his anger reined in. He wasn't thrilled with the idiot being invited into _his_ home in the first place; his stench would linger for hours. Then, if that wasn't bad enough, the girl was practically on top of him. Maybe under him. He shook his head, forcing any unwanted mental images out of his mind. That was disgusting. For the next half hour, he tried to keep training, but he couldn't stop thinking about Bulma – and her 'fiancé.' Finally, after being distracted for what must have been the hundredth time, he shut off the gravity simulator and went inside, intent on kicking out the weakling.

Nappa was training in the back yard when Vegeta emerged from the gravity room, fists clenched so tight he was drawing blood from his palms. His tail lashed behind him as he stormed across the yard to the compound. Nappa watched him as he continued punching and kicking an invisible opponent. He smirked when Vegeta disappeared inside, knowing full well what had the prince so infuriated.

_"Raditz, you might want to avoid Vegeta. He's having territory issues."_

_ "Shit."_

Inside, Vegeta stalked through the hall to the stairs. Silently he ascended them and padded softly down the hall to the door to Bulma's bedroom. Instead of knocking, he barged into the room, nearly ripping the door off its hinges. He growled when he saw both of them on her bed; it didn't take a genius to figure out what they were doing – or about to do. Actually, his nose told him more than he really wanted to know.

Bulma shrieked when the door burst open and she saw Vegeta standing in the doorway, looking as if he were ready to kill someone. "Vegeta! What the hell, get out!"

He ignored her as he came into her room, headed straight for them. Yamcha, who had been on top of her, sat up, ready to defend them from the insane saiyan. He wasn't going to stand for being interrupted when he was about to score for the first time in two years.

"You've overstayed your welcome," Vegeta snarled. He grabbed Yamcha by the throat and dragged him off Bulma's bed, not caring that he was only wearing his boxers, and pushed him over to the balcony doors. He slid it open and shoved Yamcha out.

Bulma pulled her covers up to her chest and screamed, "Vegeta, leave him alone! What do you think you're doing? Let him go!"

"What's going on, sweetie?"

The blue-haired woman turned and screamed when she saw both parents in her doorway looking panicked after they heard her screaming at Vegeta. "Get out of my room! All of you!"

"All of who?" Dr. Brief asked. He looked around her room, but she was the only person in there.

"You!" Bulma screeched.

"Honey, are you sure you're all right?" Mrs. Brief asked.

"Out!" Bulma screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Oh, my," Mrs. Brief fussed as she closed the door. She looped her arm through her husband's and leaned on him as they walked back to their bedroom. "What was that all about?"

"I don't know, dear," Dr. Brief muttered. "I'm sure it was nothing."

Once her parents were gone, Bulma turned back to the balcony doors – now closed – and roared furiously. "Vegeta! I'll get you for this!"

She got out of bed, carefully wrapping herself in her covers, and ran to her closet to get a robe. Once decent, she opened her balcony door and went outside, but no one was there. Everything was quiet. Except for the gravity simulator. Her eyes narrowed as her hands tightened into fists.

Bulma went back inside, crossed her room, and left to go downstairs and outside to have a little chat with the saiyan prince. The second she stepped outside she wished she had put more clothes on, but it was too late for that and she was too mad to care. She hurried over to the gravity room and started banging on the door with fists and feet. "Vegeta! You open this door right now!"

A few minutes later, she heard the sound of the gravity simulator powering down. After that, the door opened and Vegeta stood there, arms crossed and scowling. She scowled right back and poked him in the chest. "What the hell was that? Did you hurt Yamcha?"

"No." But he wanted to. He wanted to tear his entrails out and shove them down his throat. He only refrained for her sake.

"Why did you do that?" she demanded.

"He was distracting me."

Bulma didn't even know how to respond to that. "He – he was _distracting_ you? How? He was in my room, you were in here!"

"I sensed his pathetic power and I kept losing focus as I imagined ways to destroy him. If I can't feel his presence then I will no longer have such thoughts."

"Oh, right," she spat. "Let's try an alternate explanation: You were jealous!"

Vegeta scoffed. "Jealous? I saw nothing worth being jealous over."

Why that hurt so much, Bulma didn't know. Did she want Vegeta to be jealous of her and Yamcha? That was ridiculous. Why would he be? Why would she want him to be? She slapped him and turned around to go back inside. She couldn't believe the nerve of that man. Barging into her room, throwing her fiancé out, and then acting as he had done nothing wrong. As if he was justified! Now Yamcha was really going to hate it that she let the saiyans live with her. She was stuck in the middle of another fight, and it didn't look like there was going to be a simple solution.

_A/N: Wow, there were a lot of reviews (and subsequently, a lot of questions and comments) on the last chapter, so I'll try to address them here. Sorry if I miss anything that won't be answered by the story itself. Okay, first, thanks for all the positive response to the idea of adding a chapter to the story. I'm probably going to add at least one more that I think would fit well and fill in some information that would otherwise be left out or tacked on somewhere where it didn't fit. I know a lot of you hate Chi-Chi, but she's not _all_ bad. Crazy, yes, but I'm trying to at least put some reason behind her psychotic ways. Hrm, is Goku really that OOC? Let's be honest: in CU, he was totally flat, basically a Mary Sue. So, if he's more "serious" and "intelligent" in my story, I don't consider that a bad thing. Besides, he was a little less goofy and crap in manga (a little), right? Also, sorry about any hot beverages causing pain while reading potentially humorous lines...should I put a warning at the top of the chapter for possible laughs? :)_

_A special thank you to Someone for the honest - albeit harsh - review. It was long, so I don't know that I'll address everything here, but I'll give it a go. Your concerns with the story are legit, and yes, there may be some problems with how things are playing out, but it all has a point. Trust between Vegeta and the others isn't exactly building fast...you'll see that better later. If anything, they've just decided not to absolutely hate him, about at the level of trust as they were in the Namek saga when he was a reluctant ally. Yes, this is an AU so character portrayals are somewhat different than CU. I try to round out the flat characters (which, in all honesty, is most of them) and I try to explain why they do/think what they do. If that's not satisfactory, I'm sorry. I know at times this story can be similar to _Rediscovering Honor_, but it also has some pretty huge differences. This is a story all its own, but you have to remember... they're both my stories and so they will have similarities considering that's how I write and think. Well, anyway, I hope this chapter and future chapters piss you off less and become more enjoyable. I appreciate your honest criticism, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't want a more positive review next time._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	55. Competition

Competition

He gazed across the table at her clear blue eyes, a dumb smile spread across his face. His hand rested on hers. She was the best part of being back, the reason he was so eager to return from Otherworld. She was his sweetheart, the love of his life, the most gorgeous, amazing woman on the whole planet. She should have been his wife already, but fate dealt them a wildcard and it just hadn't happened yet. Yet. He squeezed her hand as he worked up the courage to ask her the question that had been running through his mind since the moment he was given his new life.

"So, B, we're still getting married, aren't we?"

It should have been an automatic yes. There should have been no pause, no hesitation. Maybe even a suggestion to elope, finish the job, get married as soon as possible, forget the formalities of a wedding. They waited long enough. But she didn't give him an automatic yes. She did pause, clearly hesitating. She did not suggest they elope, and she didn't even look happy with his question, or at least the timing. She smiled, but it was weak, and she looked down at their hands as she drew in a deep breath.

"B?"

"Let's not discuss that right now, Yam." Bulma pulled her hand away from his and leaned back in her seat, the soft glow of the candlelight illuminating her ivory skin tantalizingly. His eyes roamed down her neck and over her bare shoulders, to her low strapless dress, and then the table. He looked back up at her eyes, her beautiful eyes.

Yamcha felt his heart sink. He swallowed, but his mouth was dry. "What's wrong with now? Don't you want to marry me?"

"I still love you, if that's what you mean. It's just – it's just that so much has happened since our wedding was wrecked. You left for a year to train, then you died." Bulma sighed and pulled at the hem of her short dress. "It's a lot to take in, and now that you're back, well, I can hardly believe it, you know? I think I'd like to wait—not long! Just – just a little while."

He nodded sadly. "It's okay, I think I understand."

They sat quietly, not having much to say for having been separated for two years. His eyes never left her, but she kept averting her eyes, trying to look anywhere but at him. It was silly, she told herself. Why was she acting like this with him? She didn't lie. She did love him, and she did hope to marry him – someday. She needed to work through some things first, though. For example, the feelings she had for another man. How could she explain that to Yamcha? He wouldn't understand. He would be jealous, and rightly so. She hadn't even known her heart was straying until he came back and the old passion she had for him wasn't there.

Yamcha broke the silence when he asked, "It's not because of the saiyans, is it?"

Yes. Bulma shook her head. "No, don't be ridiculous, Yam."

"I still don't like them living with you. It doesn't seem like a good idea." He knew his words were falling on deaf ears. It had been over a month since he was revived and she had yet to kick them out of Capsule Corporation.

"Why?" she asked, raising her wine glass to take a sip. "What are you so worried about? You think they'll take advantage of me? Nappa's way old, Raditz is too busy training with Goku, and Vegeta's like a brother to me."

'Or maybe something more,' she thought. As far as she knew, most girls didn't have dreams about kissing their brothers. At least, not girls who didn't have some serious perverted issues. Not in the way she dreamed about kissing Vegeta, that is.

"So you've said. But it's not just you I'm worried about. What about your parents?"

"What about them?"

"What if the saiyans decide to hurt them?"

"If they wanted to hurt them, they would have done it already. Besides, even if they're not living with us, they _could_ hurt us. No walls, gates, or security systems could keep them out if they really wanted in." She finished her glass of wine and set it on the table.

"If that was supposed to reassure me, it didn't."

"Imagine."

More than her refusals to discuss marriage, it was her short, disinterested replies to his concerns and feelings that made him think something was seriously wrong in their relationship. She never got mad at him anymore, which in his previous life might have been a blessing, but now he had the feeling she just plain didn't care about him. He was learning that anger and hatred are not the opposite of love. Apathy is.

Yamcha took his napkin off his lap, wadded it up, and threw it on the table in front of him. "Are you finished?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. I'll take you home."

The couple stood up and left the restaurant, in the past one of their favorite date places. The mood and lighting was always right, but tonight it felt off. Perhaps it was because it was a romantic setting around a collapsing couple. Outside, Yamcha opened the door for Bulma before running around to get in the driver's seat. The drive to the Capsule Corporation compound was quiet; Bulma stared out her window and Yamcha focused on the road ahead. Silence. It was all they had anymore.

'What happened to us?' Bulma wondered as she watched the lights of the city fly past. 'I _do_ still love him, don't I? It's just been a long time. It feels weird to jump in and pick up where we left off. That's all. It'll get better. I know it will.'

Yamcha stopped in front of the main gate to the compound and got out to open Bulma's door for her. She got out and smiled at him. "Thanks, Yam. I had a good time. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Sure, B. I love you."

Bulma gave him a quick, passionless kiss goodnight and walked through the gates to her home. Yamcha sighed, rubbing his hand across his face. He had to find some way to win her back, to make her want to marry him again. He refused to believe he missed his only chance. They were meant to be together, a perfect couple. So why wasn't it working?

The next morning, after breakfast, Bulma was helping her mother with the dishes when the doorbell rang. Bulma dried her hands and went to the front door to answer it. The first thing she saw when she opened the door was a dozen red roses, then the smiling face of her fiancé. She smiled and took the roses from him. "Yamcha? You're here awfully early."

"Yes, I would like to come in," he joked. He stepped inside and closed the door, bending over to peck her cheek. "How are you this morning?"

"I'm fine. I was just helping Mom with the dishes. You can sit in the kitchen," she said distractedly as she went back through the door. She laid the roses on the counter and went over to the sink to continue washing the breakfast dishes. Yamcha followed her into the kitchen and took a seat at the kitchen table to wait.

Mrs. Brief turned around when she heard the chair scraping across the tile floor. "Oh, hello, Yamcha, how are you? Would you like some coffee?"

"No thanks, Mrs. Brief. I'm doing great."

"That's nice, honey." Mrs. Brief turned back around and handed a skillet to Bulma to clean again when she saw there was still some traces of cooked-on egg stuck to it.

"So where are the saiyans?" Yamcha asked, trying to sound nonchalant. He could feel two massive powers around the compound, but the third one was missing. He wanted to know who it was and where he was.

Bulma finished scrubbing the skillet and handed it back to her mother to dry and put away. "Raditz went over to Goku's to train. Vegeta's probably in the gravity room, and Nappa's either training out back or meditating somewhere.

Mrs. Brief put the skillet in its cupboard and clasped her hands together. "Oh, it's so wonderful how hard that young man works! I swear, all he ever does is train! I think it's admirable how dedicated he is."

Yamcha coughed. "What young man?"

"Vegeta, of course," Mrs. Brief said. She dried another plate and put it away.

"Admirable, Mom?" Bulma snorted. "It's obsessive. He's going to get himself hurt one of these days."

"Oh, I don't know—"

"Mom, he trains for hours on end! That's screaming potential injury." Bulma handed her another plate to put away.

Mrs. Brief giggled as she took the plate and dried it off. "You're just worried about him, sweetie, I know."

Yamcha listened to the women talking, hardly believing a word they said. He couldn't understand how two people who loved peace so much could stand having a trio of monsters living under their roof. Not only did they stand the saiyans, but they actually seemed to _enjoy_ having them around, as if they were great company or something. It made his stomach lurch.

"I don't see why you let them live here," he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. "They come here, kill a few thousand people, including _me_, and you think they're wonderful people! You should kick them out before they inevitably turn on you."

Mrs. Brief dropped the bowl she was drying. The clatter as it hit the counter caught Yamcha's attention. He looked over and snapped his mouth shut when he saw Mrs. Brief frowning at him with her hands on her hips. "Young man, how could you say such a thing?"

"Say what?"

"That they would turn on us!" Mrs. Brief stamped her foot, her heel clicking on the floor. "I know it's hard for you to forgive them; after all, you did die fighting them, but I will _not_ let you talk about my son that way!"

Yamcha's mouth fell open. "Your son?"

"Vegeta." Mrs. Brief picked up the bowl and shoved it in the cupboard overhead. "I would never throw him out on the streets! We opened our home to him and he belongs here as much as Bulma or myself."

"Of course, Mrs. Brief. I'm sorry," Yamcha murmured sheepishly.

Outside, Nappa was practicing his kata when he felt Vegeta's ki spike in the gravity room as another low power level came to the compound, no doubt the scar-faced weakling. Shaking his head, Nappa paused in his exercise and landed on the ground. Vegeta's possessiveness over the blue-haired girl was either amusing or concerning; he hadn't decided which it was yet. He was more inclined to think it was funny how Vegeta kept throwing the other fighter out whenever given the opportunity. He had to admit, they were both persistent in having Bulma to themselves. What was it about her that made men her age fight for her attention?

Maybe the fact that she was a very attractive woman. At least, that would probably be enough to make any _human_ male want to be with her. But Vegeta? He wasn't interested in outside appearance. Not _that_ much anyway. No, there was something else going on there. Nappa supposed it was part of his pack instinct trying to keep unworthy mates from her, and the weakling was definitely unworthy of her. Bulma was actually the most saiyan-like non-saiyan he had ever met. No human was worthy of that.

Nappa shook his head again. What was he thinking? Bulma wasn't a saiyan. She was a human and therefore a human was worthy of her. Right?

Shrugging, Nappa went inside to the kitchen to get a snack. He ate breakfast only half an hour ago, but he really wanted an excuse to go inside and see what was going on with the weakling. Before he reached the kitchen he could hear the female Briefs talking, then there was a comment by a male, the scar-faced idiot. Nappa paused when the normally sing-song voice of Mrs. Brief raised in anger as she snapped at the man. So, she thought of Vegeta as her son? Nappa smirked. The Briefs were borderline insane, but they were a good pack for Vegeta. His prince chose the humans well, he had to admit.

He opened the kitchen door and went inside, purposefully ignoring the human sitting at the table. He could hear his gasp and the following scent of fear as he walked over to the refrigerator. What a pathetic excuse for a warrior.

"Nappa, dear," Mrs. Brief chided playfully, "You just had breakfast."

The large saiyan grunted and opened the refrigerator and started rifling through its contents. "Hungry again."

"What a surprise," Bulma commented.

Nappa pulled a loaf of bread and meat and cheese out of the refrigerator and carried it to the table, sitting across from Yamcha, though he still ignored him. "What're you making for lunch, Mrs. Brief?"

The bubbly blonde giggled. "Is food all you boys ever think about? Well, I haven't quite decided yet. I think maybe some pasta and bread…" she trailed off, tapping her chin as she thought about what to fix for the hungry saiyans. She usually tried to pack their lunches with carbohydrates since they always worked so hard.

Yamcha recoiled in disgust when Nappa started making sandwiches and eating them in two bites. Before long the whole loaf of bread was gone and there was no meat or cheese left on the table. Nappa belched and stood up to go back to training. "Whatever you make, you better make a lot of it. Vegeta's up to 275Gs and he's going to be hungry."

Bulma nearly dropped the plate she was scrubbing. "He's at 275 already?" She was impressed that he was progressing so rapidly, but he was also close to reaching the maximum gravity the simulator could provide, which meant soon he would be demanding another upgrade. "That's just great. I still haven't figured out how to make the gravity room able to withstand higher gravity and he's going to want an upgrade when he reaches 300."

Nappa shrugged as he went to the door. "Probably. Better get working on it. He'll be at 300 by the end of the week I bet."

"Thanks for letting me know, Nappa," Bulma sighed. She turned back to the dishes after he left the kitchen. "How am I supposed to make a physically impossible upgrade? I guess I'll have to put my work on hold again."

"Why would you do that?" Yamcha asked.

"Do what? Drop everything and make an upgrade for the prince?" Bulma asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. She chuckled humorlessly. "Because he needs it and my dad doesn't have time to work on it."

Yamcha huffed. "I don't know, 300Gs seems like plenty to me."

"Not for Vegeta," Bulma said.

Mrs. Brief grinned as she put the last dish away. "He is a hard worker, isn't he, dear?"

Bulma snorted. "Obsessive-compulsive, maybe. But I know he's trying to get strong enough to defeat Frieza. How strong could that guy possibly be, anyway? Vegeta told me his power level is over 250,000 now. That's insane. I can't imagine anyone being stronger."

Yamcha's face paled. "Over 250 _thousand_? Did I hear you right?"

The blue-haired woman beamed with pride for her adopted brother. "Yep. Great, isn't it?"

"Hardly."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, uh, nothing. Great, yeah." He laughed nervously, suddenly feeling the urge to leave Capsule Corporation. But he wouldn't leave yet. He came with a purpose, and that purpose was to get Bulma to go out with him. "So anyway, B, I was hoping you might want to go out to lunch with me."

Bulma shook her head as she leaned against the counter and dried her hands. "Sorry, Yam, but I've got to get busy working on Vegeta's upgrade."

"Come on, we won't be out that long! His upgrade can wait."

"You can stay here for lunch if you want to eat lunch with me, Yamcha," she said firmly. "His upgrade is more important than a date right now."

That hurt. It wasn't the first time he was cast aside to make room for Vegeta. Honestly, he was starting to get tired of it. Bulma was _his_ fiancée and _he_ should get her attention, not some overgrown monkey prince. He would have told her so, too, but he didn't want to insult Vegeta in front of Mrs. Brief – her wrath was more terrifying than anything Bulma could ever say or do. Yamcha got up and went over to Bulma, taking her hands in his.

"Alright, I'll stay for lunch if it's not too much trouble."

"It's fine, dear," Mrs. Brief said from the other side of the kitchen.

Yamcha smiled. "Then I guess it's settled. I'll stay for lunch."

Bulma nodded, forcing a smile. "Great, Yam. But I'll be working in my lab all morning. I guess you can just hang out and do whatever you want until lunch. I'll see you then." She pulled her hands free and gently pushed past him, not pausing to let him peck her cheek.

Vegeta wasn't paying attention to the visitor to Capsule Corporation. He really wasn't. He just happened to notice that the girl's ki was in her laboratory and the weakling idiot was upstairs, probably in the recreation room wasting time playing video games or watching television. He snorted. What a fool. What was he doing at the compound anyway? Since he threw him out the first time, Yamcha hadn't come by for long visits, usually coming to pick up Bulma for dates – which, he noticed, she was never too eager to go on – or drop her off after their apparently failed dates. Vegeta was pleased that she never stank of his scent, at least not too much, so he knew she hadn't had sexual relations with him. He couldn't quite explain why that relieved him so much. He figured it was his need to protect her from an unworthy mate. As her pack mate, it was his duty to see to it that she had the best mate she could get, and that idiot wasn't it.

Yes, _he_ was her pack mate, and the scar-faced fighter wasn't. That automatically gave him first dibs on her attention and loyalty. Perhaps she was _in love_ with the earthling male, but she didn't seem terribly interested in him. That only served to make Vegeta more skeptical about earthling emotions and attachments, which he already perceived to be weak and frivolous. Hence, every time she spoke of her boyfriend or fiancé or whatever he was in a less than ideal light, Vegeta smirked on the inside. He heard her mention on more than one occasion since the fool was resurrected that he had pushed her to finish getting married at long last, but so far she had refused every time. Each time the weakling was rejected he felt like it was his own personal victory, even if he had nothing to do with it. The blue-haired girl was still his, and he wasn't willing to share her with someone so unworthy.

At lunch, there was palpable tension between the saiyan prince and the earthling warrior. Bulma sat between them, feeling their mutual hostility like a weight on her shoulders. Being put in the middle was no longer a metaphor. She sighed enough times through the meal for even her mother to notice, but she didn't say much at all to anyone. Who would she talk to? If she had a conversation with Yamcha, Vegeta would be upset that she was ignoring him (he didn't have to tell her for her to know he was jealous of her fiancé). If she tried to talk to Vegeta, he wouldn't answer anyway, and Yamcha would be jealous that she was talking to him without hope for a response when she could have a pleasant chat with him.

Her reluctance to speak didn't fool either of them. They knew she was making an effort _not _to play favorites, which could only mean that she _did _have a favorite. The only question was who it was. As soon as Bulma finished eating, she stood up and rested her hands on their shoulders. "It was nice of you to come by, Yam. I need to get back to work, so I'll see you some other time. And Vegeta, I'll see you at dinner. Try not to break anything while training. I'm going to be busy working on upgrades; I'm sure you won't want me having to spend time repairing old things when I could be designing new things, right?" She patted their shoulders and hastily retreated from the kitchen before either of them could reply.

Vegeta smirked as Yamcha, visibly upset, stood up and gave a quick goodbye to Mrs. Brief as he left the kitchen., then snickered when he felt the weakling's ki leave the compound and move away rapidly.

Mrs. Brief, clueless as ever, smiled and shrugged as she started gathering up the dirty dishes to carry to the sink. "Well, that was a nice visit, don't you think?"

"Hn." Vegeta stood up and stretched before going over to lean against the counter as he waited for Mrs. Brief to finish clearing off the table so they could go grocery shopping. He didn't think it was a very nice visit at all, but he wasn't in the mood to express his opinion, regardless of how strong it was. He watched Nappa stand up, chuckling to himself about something, and leave the kitchen to go back to training. Vegeta crossed his arms and rolled his eyes to the ceiling as he impatiently waited for Mrs. Brief to get ready to go shopping. The things he did for his pack…

The next day, Vegeta, Bulma, Nappa, and Mrs. Brief were again sitting around the kitchen table eating lunch when Bulma's cell phone rang. She excused herself from the table and went out to the hall to talk, but the saiyans could still hear her clearly, though her voice was somewhat muffled through the wall.

"Yamcha, hey," she said, feigning enthusiasm. "What's up?"

There was a light chuckle on the other end. "Hey, B. I was just wondering if you wanted to go out with me tonight."

She rolled her eyes. "Yam, you know I'm super busy."

"I know, hon, but come on, it'll be a lot of fun. I promise."

Bulma sighed and crossed her free arm over her chest as she leaned against the wall. Almost smiling, she asked, "You're going to keep asking me out until I agree, aren't you?"

"That was the plan."

This was why she loved him. He was persistent in his courtship, chasing after her as if she were the prize jewel of the world. She was all he wanted, the only thing he could think about. It was sweet. She slowly released her breath, silently debating with herself whether or not she should go to dinner with him. On the one hand, she _was_ incredibly busy, trying to balance her regular work at Capsule Corporation while developing upgrades for the gravity room; but on the other hand, she didn't want to keep pushing Yamcha away. He _was _still her fiancé, and she felt obligated to go on dates with him, even when she didn't feel like it. Though, after the roses the day before, his willingness to stick around the compound despite the saiyans' presence, and now his phone call and confession that he would keep trying, she did feel more inclined to want to spend some time with him.

"Alright, Yamcha, but I can't stay out too late, okay?"

"No problem, B. I'll pick you up at six?"

"Sounds good. See you then." Bulma hung up and stuffed her phone back in her pocket before going into the kitchen to finish eating her lunch. When she sat down, she looked over when she heard a faint, rumbling growl coming from her saiyan friend. He had paused in his eating, choosing instead to snarl at it with his fists clenched on the table. She looked down at his lap and saw the tip of his tail flicking erratically, so much that she wouldn't be surprised if it unwound from his waist to lash about.

Figuring she didn't want to know what had him so upset, Bulma shrugged and picked up her chopstick to finish eating. If she was going on a date she needed to hurry up and get back to work so she could get as much done as possible before getting ready for her date. That would take at least an hour. It was only a few minutes before she finished and stood up to return to her laboratory. On her way out of the kitchen, she told her mother, "I'm not going to be here for dinner. I'm going out with Yamcha."

"Okay, sweetie," Mrs. Brief called over her shoulder. When her daughter disappeared, the blonde woman sighed and folded her hands in her lap. "I wish she wouldn't go out with that man. He isn't right for her."

Snorting, Vegeta finally decided to finish eating. He had to agree with Mrs. Brief. Bulma did not belong with Yamcha at all, though for what reason he still couldn't quite place. Nappa likewise believed Bulma and Yamcha shouldn't be together. He watched Mrs. Brief from the corner of his eye as he finished eating, wondering if she was thinking the same thing he was. His gaze shifted over to his prince from time to time, and each glimpse he had of Vegeta further convinced him that Bulma didn't belong with Yamcha because someone else did. He was by no means a matchmaker, but in this case, the perfect pairing was obvious. Vegeta was displaying more than the ordinary protectiveness and possessiveness of a pack mate. How had it taken him so long to see it?

Bulma had finished work early that afternoon so she would have time to take a bath and curl her hair before her date with Yamcha. Now she sat in front of her vanity applying her makeup, only wearing her underclothes as she still hadn't decided what to wear. Yamcha hadn't told her where he planned on taking her, so she didn't know if she should lean more formal or fun. In the end, she decided to take the safe road and pick something that could be both. After finishing her makeup, she got up and went to her closet to find a suitable outfit for the night.

When she emerged from her closet, she was wearing a deep purple dress. It was one of her favorites, with a low scoop neck, long sleeves, empire waist, and knee length, it was perfect for all occasions. She pulled on a pair of black pumps and grabbed a black pearl necklace, earrings, and bracelet from her vanity on her way out of her bedroom. The doorbell had already rung, and she didn't want to keep Yamcha waiting, especially with Vegeta prowling around the compound before dinner.

Hurrying downstairs, Bulma found Yamcha standing in the hall waiting for her – with Vegeta. Was he the one who answered the door? She rushed over to her fiancé, carefully placing herself between him and the irate saiyan. "Sorry about the wait, I was just finishing getting dressed."

Yamcha didn't take his eyes off Vegeta as he answered, "It's ok, B. I was just having a nice chat with Vegeta."

Her eyes widened. "Oh really? About what?" She sneaked a glance over at the saiyan prince, not missing his furious scowl and his twitching tail.

Laughing nervously, Yamcha rubbed the back of his head with one hand while the other arm linked through Bulma's. "It's not nice dinner talk."

Her brows lowered as she glanced again at the saiyan, who was now wearing a self-satisfied smirk. "We're not at dinner, and now you have me curious."

"I was simply discussing the most effective ways to disembowel various alien species," Vegeta answered with a one-shoulder shrug. "I merely told him I was interested in learning how to properly rip out the entrails of a human male."

Just then, Nappa walked out of the kitchen munching on a raw potato. He stopped next to Vegeta and provided his unwanted input, saying, "Wouldn't it be about the same as a Jehzit?"

Vegeta seemed to consider that for a moment before nodding. "Yes, I think you're right. They have about the same bone structure, muscle mass, and probably internal organs. So I suppose you would impale them directly under the sternum, curve your hand like so, and scoop their guts out like this," he said, demonstrating the hand motions in front of Yamcha's abdomen.

Bulma's face paled as she felt bile rising in her throat. "Vegeta," she said weakly, "That is probably the most disgusting thing I have ever heard."

Again he shrugged nonchalantly. "You wanted to know what we were talking about. Besides, I suppose if I'm not given any reason to—" he paused, giving Yamcha a pointed glare, "—I won't ever have to try it."

Yamcha yanked Bulma's arm as he took a few steps back toward the door. "Well, it's been nice talking with you, but I think we should be heading out. Don't worry, I'll have her back by nine. Bye!" He reached behind him and twisted the doorknob, then opened the door with his foot to back out, not wanting to turn his back on the saiyans. He didn't care that their expressions showed their amusement, he wanted to get as far away from them as fast as possible.

Once they were in the car, Bulma turned to Yamcha and sighed, laying her hand on top of his on the gearshift. "Yamcha, I'm so sorry about that. He was just teasing you. I'll admit his sense of humor can be rather… morbid… but he didn't mean any of it."

"Don't worry about it," he said, perhaps too bitingly. He knew she was trying to comfort him, but he was genuinely terrified of the saiyans, and hearing and seeing them demonstrate how to gut a human was more than he could take. He shuddered, remembering the cruel flash of amusement in Vegeta's eyes. He wasn't teasing. He was threatening. Yamcha swallowed hard and tried to turn his thoughts to more pleasant things, such as spending a romantic evening with Bulma. He smiled turned, smiling at her. "Now, what kind of food are you hungry for?"

…

Frieza stood on the ground, staring up at the magnificent creature towering over him with barely suppressed awe. He knew that there was an eternal dragon that would arise from the dragon balls, but he never imagined it would be so incredibly colossal – and intimidating. Most powerful being in the universe or not, Frieza was in shock for a few moments before he could even begin to process what the dragon had said to him.

He could be granted _three _wishes. The information his techs found about the dragon hadn't included that. Well, even better. He pushed aside his awe and smirked up at the dragon, folding his arms behind his back. He had come so far to get to this point, and now the moment was finally here when he would be granted anything he wanted, and what he wanted most of all was immortality so he could seize control of the galaxies controlled by his father and brother when they died – whether or not it would be at his hands he hadn't decided yet – and rule the universe for eternity.

_Frieza stood in front of the eldest Namek, an obese blob of green flesh forever rooted in his throne, too old and weak to move. He had come to collect the last dragon ball, the one star ball, but he also sought the password another of the village elders had mentioned, mocking the space tyrant with his overconfident boasts of the Namekians' foresight in preventing evil men such as himself from ever being able to make a wish._

_ Before him sat the last Namekian, all the others having already been slaughtered by his men. Here sat the one who could tell him the password, the secret to raising the dragon to grant his wishes; unfortunately, he was also a stubborn old relic who believed virtue held some grand significance in the overall scheme of things. As such, he refused to tell Frieza what he wanted to know, instead choosing to – between weak coughs – berate the tyrant's morality, worth, and desires. Frieza wasn't interested in his babble. He already knew he was selfish, conceited, arrogant, merciless, and sadistic. He didn't need an old 'prophet' telling him so._

_ Losing patience, Frieza levitated off the floor to glare at the old Namekian at eye level. He pointed to the geezer's caretaker and bodyguard, lying dead on the floor, and growled, "You will tell me how to summon the dragon, you old windbag, or I will see to it that you meet the same fate as your young friend."_

_ Guru either laughed or coughed for a moment before replying, "You will never raise the dragon, Frieza. You will never learn the password from me, and unfortunately for you, you have already murdered all my children."_

_Frieza was unimpressed by Guru's speech. What was the name he heard one of the Namekians say before he killed him? Oh yes. __"Porunga?"_

_ The old Namekian remained silent. Frieza sneered at him, considering whether to kill him or let him live to see his ascension to immortality. Eventually he decided on the latter and left the hideous creature, having snatched the dragon ball away from him faster than his old, half-blind eyes could see._

_ The tyrant returned to his ship and moved the dragon balls outside, setting them in a circle. He admired their ethereal glow as he raised his hands over them. "Eternal dragon, Porunga, arise!"_

_ He waited a few minutes, but nothing happened. He frowned at the dragon balls. Why weren't they working? He was sure he found the password when the Namekian let it slip that the dragon's name was Porunga. What else was there to know? He lowered his hands and thought for another minute before cackling to himself. What else? He had to summon the dragon and make his wish in Namekian! It was too obvious. He raised his hand to his scouter and had it translate the words he wanted into Namekian before trying again. This time, the sky darkened with thick, black clouds, pierced only by bolts of lightning. The dragon rose from the dragon balls in a winding, curling, growing beam of brilliant light._

"Dragon," he said in carefully pronounced Namekian, "I wish for immortality!"

It was hard to tell, but the eternal dragon did not appear pleased with this request. Nevertheless, after a few moments his eyes glowed and his voiced boomed across the land, "Your wish has been granted. Name your next wish."

Frieza paused. What else did he want badly enough to use one of his wishes on it? Immediate rule over the entire known universe? Perhaps he wanted Vegeta to be brought to him, to witness his moment of glory before he was struck down. Better yet, he could wish for Vegeta's undying allegiance and servitude. No, that would never do. The monkey needed to be broken slowly, not by magic. His attention shot back to the dragon, who was growling impatiently. Frieza could have slapped himself. Had he known there would be three wishes instead of one, he would have thought about his other two wishes beforehand. He opened his mouth, ready to make another wish, when Porunga started fading from sight as if he were nothing but an apparition.

"What?" Frieza shouted, "What's happening?"

Porunga disappeared completely, then the dragon balls rose high in the air. Frieza watched them, baffled, as they turned to stone and crashed back down to the ground around him. He looked around at them all. He roared with frustration. How was he supposed to get his last two wishes now?

_A/N: Well, I guess that answers all your questions about what'll happen with Frieza and the Namekian dragon balls. Yep. To answer other questions/address points brought up...Yamcha went to train with King Kai because he helped fight to defend Earth against the saiyans. If that wasn't enough, let's assume Kami knew Frieza would be coming because, well, he knows stuff and knew they'd need everyone to be as strong as possible, including Yamcha who could take the opportunity of being dead to train with King Kai. It makes sense, actually. And yeah, Bulma does tend to screw things up. It's kind of in her nature. Goku and Vegeta are definitely not likely to be on good terms with each other anytime soon (if ever)...they still don't like each other and I'm not sure if/when that'll change on either side. Anyway, thank you all for the reviews. I appreciate every one of them._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	56. Sabotage

Sabotage

Nappa followed Raditz out of the kitchen one morning after they were finished eating breakfast and laid his hand on his shoulder to stop him before he could leave to go train with Kakarrot. Silently, he gestured for Raditz to follow him upstairs where they would have privacy from the Briefs and Vegeta. Once they were in his guestroom and the door was closed, Nappa crossed his arms over his chest and started pacing back and forth.

"What's going on?" Raditz asked after few minutes ticked by with no explanation. His eyes followed the elite saiyan as he restlessly went from one side of the room to the other, clearly agitated about something.

Nappa paused and rubbed his bald head. "It's about Vegeta—"

"It's always about Vegeta," Raditz cut in.

The older saiyan grunted and resumed pacing. "Yes, but this time it's about him and the girl, Bulma."

Raditz raised an eyebrow. "What about them?"

"Are you that blind?" Nappa snapped. He sighed and stopped in front of the balcony doors, looking out at the bleak winter day. There was no snow to hide the dead grass and the sky was a cloudy gray with no hope of sunshine breaking through. The large saiyan dropped his arms to his sides, his hands clenched into fists. "Would you say Vegeta is more protective or possessive over her?"

The long-haired saiyan shrugged and sat backwards in the chair at the desk, resting his arms on the back with his chin on top. Protective or possessive, what was the difference? Both were innately part of a saiyan's nature. "He's both."

Rolling his eyes, Nappa turned away from the balcony and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed again. "Is it being protective or possessive when he does everything in his power to keep the girl from seeing that idiot weakling?"

Raditz scrunched his brow as he considered that. Vegeta's irritation when Yamcha came around to visit Bulma had grown increasingly obvious over the past month. "Possessive."

Nappa grunted. Neither said anything else for a few moments, both sorting through their own thoughts on the matter. Finally, Nappa asked the question that revealed his true motive for pulling Raditz aside in private to talk. "Do you think they would be good mates?"

"Would they – would they _what_?" Raditz shook his head, flabbergasted. He hadn't really seen that question coming.

"Think about it!"

"Well," he mumbled, "they both have beastly tempers." He laughed thinking about all the times they lost their tempers with each other. They would fight, scream, and hurl insults as if their lives depended on it. Prideful, they wouldn't back down no matter who was in the wrong. The girl, though pathetically weak by comparison, was a fighter, both physically and mentally. She could push Vegeta to his breaking point faster than anyone he knew, yet somehow she was still alive.

Their personalities, so similar, were compatible but still abrasive enough they would never get bored with each other. He would die to protect her, and she would do everything she could to take care of him, especially when he wouldn't care for himself. And that made it obvious that they cared for each other on a deep level quite unlike the way they cared for anyone else. If there was one prime example of Vegeta doing anything for her, it was giving up his wish with the dragon balls so she could have her idiot fiancé back. And Bulma, she invited him back into her home after she knew he was at least in part responsible for her fiancé in the first place.

Raditz shook his head again. "It doesn't matter if they would be good mates. She's still a human, and he's the saiyan prince."

Nappa shrugged one shoulder. "Where was it ever written that a saiyan prince couldn't marry someone from another race?"

"Well, uh…" Raditz scratched his head and shrugged. "I don't know."

"Nowhere."

"Nowhere?"

The elder saiyan nodded and pushed away from the wall to resume pacing. "There was no law against it. They just never did because, well, it's always been thought that saiyans are superior. And they were. But damnit, Raditz, the saiyan race is gone." He sighed heavily and sank down on his bed. He frowned at the floor. Remembering his beloved race and culture was never easy for him. More than the others he missed it because he was the only one who truly knew it, who lived in it, helped build it. "He would be happy with her. There's no saiyan females for him to mate with. There's no way to save our race. He might as well take a mate here. At least we know humans and saiyans are compatible. Kakarrot proved that."

"You're right," Raditz conceded. "But what do we do about it? There's still the small problem of Bulma already having a fiancé. And you know she'll only want someone who will give her that ridiculous human sentiment."

"Love?" Nappa snorted. "Humans don't know shit about love."

"And I suppose saiyans do?"

Nappa smirked at the younger saiyan. "You know why there's no word for 'love' in Saiya-go? Because it's too damn complicated for one word. You know those other words we threw around all the time, protective, possessive, caring, attraction, all that? Each one of those is only a small part of _love_."

"So you're saying Vegeta loves Bulma?"

"To put it in weak human terms, yes." Nappa stood up again and paced a few more times, his brows lowered as he concentrated on his thoughts. "He just doesn't know it yet. And neither does she. So we just have to _make _them see."

"How?"

"Use your brain, Raditz," Nappa growled. "The main problem here is that idiot Yamcha guy. Without him in the picture, they'll realize their feelings for each other on their own."

Raditz laughed. "So we just get rid of him!"

"It's not _that _easy," Nappa said. "We can't kill him – again. We'll have to be a little more subtle than that."

"Alright, fine," Raditz agreed. "So, what do we do first?"

…

Bulma propped up her feet on her oversized desk and rubbed a smudge off her black patent high heel. She reclined back in her chair with her arms crossed behind her head and looked up at the ceiling. The board meeting went well that morning, so she felt justified in taking the rest of the day off. She considered calling Yamcha and asking him if he wanted to do something that afternoon.

The past few weeks had been great. She was spending more time with Yamcha and actually enjoying it again. She laughed at herself when she thought about the reason she hadn't been so happy to see him after he was revived. Feelings for Vegeta, of all people, how absurd. Of course she loved him, but it wasn't a romantic love. No way. He was her big brother, the pain in her ass who kept breaking things, demanding replacements and upgrades, and generally being disagreeable. How could she ever want to be romantically involved with _that_? Vegeta wasn't dating material. If anything, the feelings she thought she had for him were built on loneliness and availability while Yamcha was still dead. Well, now that her fiancé was back, she could move on from her silly crush and rethink her relationship with Yamcha.

To be honest, though, she still wasn't sure she wanted to marry Yamcha anytime soon. While he was away, she had the opportunity to think about that commitment. Why did she want to get married so badly anyway? Even as a girl she had never been one to dream of her prince charming who would sweep her off her feet and marry her. Sure, she liked cute boys, but not because she wanted to marry them. When did that change? When Goku and Chi-Chi got married. Of course she wanted to get married _someday_, but why rush it? There were still many adventures to go on before being tied down with a family. She already had a demanding career, why add a husband and kids to the mix?

Because, she could hear her mother saying, getting married and raising children was life's greatest and most fulfilling adventure. Bulma snorted. Maybe before the Women's Rights Movement. She wasn't even 30 years old yet, there was still plenty of time for her to worry about getting married. If Yamcha couldn't understand that, then he would either have to take a hike or wait for her to be ready.

Dismissing those thoughts, Bulma picked her cell phone up from her desk and dialed Yamcha's number. She only had to wait through two rings for him to pick up.

"Hey, babe, what's up?"

"Hey, Yam." Bulma grinned and spun around in her chair. "I'm taking the rest of the day off. I was wondering if you wanted to do something."

"Sure, B. You have anything in mind?"

She shrugged, though he couldn't see it. "It's too cold to do anything outdoors. Why don't we just go to the mall or something?"

"Sure. You want to meet there or should I pick you up?"

"I think I'll go home and change into something more casual. Why don't you pick me up in an hour?"

"You got it. See you soon."

"Alright. Love you."

"Love you too."

Bulma hung up and set her phone on the desk while she gathered some files in her briefcase so she wouldn't have to come back to headquarters for a few days. Standing up, she grabbed her winter coat from the back of her chair and pulled it on to cover her business suit. As she walked around her desk she picked up her briefcase and cell phone and headed over to the elevator, tapping her toe impatiently when she had to wait for the doors to slide open.

When she made it outside, she started shivering almost immediately. She was wearing her winter coat, but she was also wearing a skirt that only went to her knees and her legs were only covered by sheer tights. In an effort to get out of the cold wind of winter, she ran to the curb and threw her hovercar capsule on the ground before hurriedly getting in the driver's seat and slamming the door closed. She rubbed her hands together for a few seconds before starting the engine, turning the heat up, and driving back to the compound.

Once home, Bulma went inside, bypassing the kitchen even though she hadn't had lunch yet, and headed upstairs to her bedroom to change her clothes. She closed her door behind her and took off her coat and suit jacket as she crossed her room, tossing them carelessly on her bed. She unzipped her skirt and wiggled her hips until it slid off on its own while she unbuttoned her blouse and threw on her bed along with her jacket. Finally, she sat on the bed and tugged her tights off. 'Freedom!' she thought as she threw them on the floor. 'Now what should I wear?'

She stood up again and went to her dresser and pulled out a pair of dark skinny jeans and a black camisole, then went over to her closet and picked a black sweater tunic with a cowl neck and waist belt. After dressing, she put on socks and a pair of black leather boots to complete her outfit. Casual, but still stylish, she smiled at herself as she looked herself over in her mirror. The last act before going back downstairs for a light lunch was taking her hair out of a bun to let it cascade over her shoulders.

By the time she reached the kitchen, the saiyans – including Raditz, which was strange – were finishing their lunch and getting ready to go back to training. "Hey guys," she said as she walked over to the refrigerator to get a drink before coming over to sit at the table.

The saiyans watched her closely, the only sound heard was her heels clicking on the tile. Bulma didn't notice that she had their full attention; she was used to their silence when they were eating. She sat down at the table and started making a sandwich for herself. "So the meeting went really well this morning," she told her mother. "We got a higher budget approved for the medical department and we're going to expand automotives."

"That's wonderful, dear," Mrs. Brief said. "I take it you're going out to celebrate?"

Bulma nodded. "Yeah, me and Yamcha are going to go hang out at the mall or something. It'll be fun." She paused to take a bite of her sandwich.

"Oh, with Yamcha," Mrs. Brief sighed. She forced her smile to return. "How nice, sweetie. Will you be back for dinner?"

"Yeah, I think so. Hey, can I ask him to eat with us?"

"I don't see why not." Mrs. Brief stood up, smoothing out her apron that wasn't actually wrinkled. "Well, I think I just heard the dryer stop. I'd better go take care of the laundry." She hurried out of the kitchen, leaving Bulma alone with the saiyans. She glanced over at them and shrugged at her mother's strange departure.

Nappa cleared his throat and stood up. "Hey, Vegeta, you up for a spar?"

The prince snorted as he, too, rose from his seat. "Are you up for a beating?" He smirked as he led the way out of the kitchen, his old bodyguard following behind and shooting another glance over his shoulder at Raditz.

Bulma swallowed another bite of her sandwich before looking over at Raditz. He was just sitting there, finished eating. "So, why are you here today? Didn't Goku want to train with you?"

"Actually Nappa wanted to spar with me this morning." Raditz sighed and pushed his plate aside so he could rest his arms on the table. "Bulma, I've been wanting to talk to someone about this. But it's kind of awkward for me and I don't know how to ask…"

She quirked an eyebrow. "Uh, sure, what is it?"

"Well, I've been thinking. I see Kakarrot and Chi-Chi's relationship, and it makes me wonder what this human emotion is they seem to share. He says it's love, but I never thought saiyans _loved_. So either it's something he had to learn or it's something we can feel, or do, and I just don't know what it is."

Bulma nearly spit out the drink of water she took. Raditz wanted to know about love? She didn't see that one coming! Gathering her thoughts, she paused to finish her sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. "Love…well, that's a tough one to explain. There's different kinds of love. Like between parents and children, and between lovers."

"Lovers?"

She blushed a little as she explained, "Yeah, people who are romantically involved. They go on dates and, er… kiss, and a lot of them get married."

"Oh." Raditz cocked his head to the side as he considered that. "So how are the loves different? Do they feel different or what?"

"Well, yeah." She sighed and raked her hand through her hair. "When you're _in love _with someone, you want to spend all your time with that person and you'll do about anything for them."

Raditz nodded. "You mean like how you are with Vegeta? I mean, you always work on his gravity room upgrades when you have other things to do and you seem to like seeing him."

Bulma coughed and stood up, carrying her plate to the sink to wash. "Er… well, that's different." She thought.

"How is that different?"

Evading his question, Bulma told him, "I mean like how I'm going out with Yamcha this afternoon just because."

"But—"

"And love also means you care for someone. Like how I cared enough to gather the dragon balls to revive Yamcha."

"Was it caring for Vegeta to let you have that wish?" Raditz asked, standing up to help her carry dishes to the sink.

She paused before slowly nodding. "Yeah, that was caring. Listen, I would love to talk about this some other time, but Yamcha's here and I need to go. Be careful when you train!" Bulma turned and almost ran out of the kitchen, eager to escape Raditz and his questions that made her question her own feelings. She thought she was over that already.

Raditz was still in the kitchen when Mrs. Brief came back in. He noticed she didn't smell like laundry detergent or dryer sheets, so she obviously hadn't been doing laundry. Mrs. Brief smiled when she saw him standing near the sink. "Oh, Mr. Raditz, you're still in here? I thought you would be out training with the other boys."

He shook his head. "No, I was talking to Bulma."

Mrs. Brief went over to the sink and started washing the dishes. "Oh, what about? I really wish she wouldn't go out with that young man. Don't misunderstand me, dear, he's a nice boy, but I think she could do so much better."

Raditz stared at the blonde woman. "Who would be better than him?"

She shrugged innocently and looked out the window over the sink. "I don't know. I always thought she and Vegeta would make a nice pair."

"You're probably right."

"Are you going back outside to train?"

"Yeah."

"I don't want to interrupt Vegeta's training, but could you tell him I was planning on going shopping in about half an hour?"

Raditz grunted as he crossed the kitchen to leave. He had more to report to Nappa about their matchmaking venture. It seemed they had an unexpected ally in Mrs. Brief. Perhaps Dr. Brief would also be on their side. He would have to find that out later if he could.

That evening, Bulma returned home with Yamcha half an hour before dinner. Yamcha went to sit in the kitchen and visit with her parents while she went to summon the saiyans for dinner and put her purchases in her bedroom.

"I hope you like pot roast," Mrs. Brief told her guest when she saw him come in.

Yamcha smiled and nodded. "Yeah, it's great, Mrs. Brief. I like anything you cook."

"Do you?" She giggled as she pulled the plates out of the cupboard to start setting the table. "I'm glad to hear that, dear. It's too bad Bulma never learned how to cook."

The scar-faced man practically leaped out of his seat to go help Mrs. Brief carry the dishes over to the table. "She's not that bad."

"No, I suppose you're right. As long as she's fixing one of three or four meals she can do well." Mrs. Brief shrugged and went back over to the oven to pull the food out.

Dr. Brief chuckled as he turned the page of his evening paper. "It has been a blessing having a wife with such extraordinary culinary skills. I can't imagine having to eat second-rate meals every day of my life."

"You mean like poor Dr. Bellah?" Mrs. Brief asked. "That man's wife is a terrible cook. I swear at every New Year's party he tells us he's thinking about divorcing her because of the food she gives him."

Yamcha rubbed the back of his neck as he sank back into his seat after setting the table. "That bad, huh?"

Dr. Brief turned the page of his newspaper, nodding sagely.

Mrs. Brief started bringing the food to the table as the saiyans started trudging into the kitchen, the two large saiyans looking much more bloodied and bruised than their prince. "Vegeta, sweetheart," Mrs. Brief said when she saw him, "How was your training this afternoon?"

"Fine."

"Hello, son," Dr. Brief greeted him. "How's the gravity room holding up?"

Vegeta sat down and waited for Mrs. Brief to pour him a drink. "Fine. I'll need another upgrade soon. I've reached 400Gs."

"My word, son!" Dr. Brief shook his head in disbelief. "I don't know how we're going to keep up with your progress."

"Hn."

Yamcha scooted his chair a bit farther from Vegeta, though there was another chair between them where Bulma would sit. He couldn't believe anyone could train in gravity that high. He'd thought 10 times Earth's gravity at King Kai's was intense.

"I'm still surprised Bulma took the afternoon off," Mrs. Brief continued chattering as she finished carrying the food to the table before sitting down. "She's always so busy, either with her work at Capsule Corporation or upgrading your gravity machine, Vegeta."

Dr. Brief nodded again. "She's this busy now, imagine how busy she'll be when she takes over the company. She'll probably work at least 12 hours a day. The girl's a workaholic. She loves working in her laboratory more than sleeping."

"You really think she'll work that much?" Yamcha asked. He didn't like the sound of that. He knew Bulma was dedicated to work, but he always imagined she would work regular eight-hour shifts and leave her business in the office when she came home. Would he ever even get to see her once they were married?

"I would be lying if I told you otherwise," Dr. Brief replied.

"Oh."

Bulma walked into the kitchen a moment later and took her seat at the table between Yamcha and Vegeta. "Sorry about the wait. I was putting away my new clothes."

"That's alright, dear," Mrs. Brief said.

"You bought _more _clothes, girl?" Vegeta asked with a sneer.

Bulma slapped his shoulder. "Shut up. I didn't get any for you so you have no right to complain."

"Hn."

Mrs. Brief started serving the food while Vegeta and Bulma continued bickering. At least, it continued until Vegeta started eating. The blonde woman giggled at their silly routine. They were so adorable together, why couldn't they see that?

Turning to her husband, she asked, "Sweetie, have you sent the invitations for the New Year's party?"

"Yes, dear. They went out last week."

"Oh, that reminds me. Would you three like to come to the party?" she asked, looking at the saiyans. "We'll have a buffet and there'll be music and dancing and it'll be lots of fun. I think we're going to have it in the ballroom this year."

While Nappa and Raditz looked to their prince for an answer, he simply shrugged one shoulder, which was as close to a yes while eating that anyone could hope for. Mrs. Brief squealed delightedly and clapped her hands together. "Oh, this is wonderful. I was so sorry when you missed it last year, but I know training comes first. You're all so hardworking."

Yamcha sat there, wondering how Mrs. Brief decoded that half-hearted shrug as an affirmative. Either she was an expert at reading saiyan body language or she was crazy. Either way, he was a little miffed that she hadn't included him in the invitation to the party. He had attended a few years in the past, but he didn't particularly enjoy the parties. He found himself surrounded by brilliant minds who only wanted to talk about business he couldn't understand, and there was never enough booze to make him feel less self-conscious around them. Besides, they were formal parties, and he didn't enjoy wearing a suit all night. Still, as Bulma's fiancé, shouldn't he be invited?

Bulma didn't seem to notice the oversight as she nudged Vegeta teasingly with her elbow. "I can't believe you're agreeing to go. You do know there'll be a lot of people there, don't you?"

He shifted his dark gaze to her for a moment before rolling his eyes, never saying a word. As if he didn't know what a party entailed. There was a reason he avoided it last year. The only reason he was going this year was so he could keep her away from the scar-faced weakling. Even if he didn't show up to the party, he wanted to be there to make sure her attention was on _him_.

Bulma shrugged. "Okay, just thought I'd warn you." Knowing Vegeta was going to be at the party excited her. She was a little apprehensive about seeing him behaving in a crowd of humans, but she figured he could control himself fairly well. It would be fun getting to spend the night with him, at least. He still rarely took a break from his training, so quality time spent with him was rare. She was beginning to wonder if his training obsession would lessen once Frieza was defeated. She hoped so. She dismissed that thought. All that mattered now was getting him something appropriate to wear to the party, and there were only had two days to do it.

…

Vegeta quirked an eyebrow at the garments the blue-haired girl gave him to wear to the stupid party. A pair of navy braided stripe slacks with a matching vest and jacket, a light blue dress shirt, and a blue necktie. She had to be crazy if she expected him to wear such a thing. He was a saiyan, not a human. But she insisted he not wear his armor. Growling, he threw the suit on the bed in his guestroom and went into the bathroom to shower before the party.

After his shower, he walked back to the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and glared at the suit again. He felt ridiculous for going through with this in the first place. He shouldn't have agreed to come. Sighing, he pulled a pair of boxers out of his dresser and started getting dressed. He put on the pants, shirt, and vest, but he couldn't figure out how to tie the necktie and he decided the jacket restricted his range of motion too much to bother wearing it. So, he finished by putting on a pair of black shoes and a belt and left his guestroom to find the Briefs.

He was walking down the hall to go upstairs when he found Nappa and Raditz talking in hushed tones, glancing around from time to time. They were wearing suits similar to his own, but they were black with different colored shirts; Raditz was wearing gray and Nappa dark green. Like him, they decided to forgo the ties and jackets. Vegeta stalked over to them, scowling. "What are you idiots doing?"

Nappa rubbed his head. "Er, nothing, Vegeta. Just talking about these stupid suits."

"Yeah. They're pointless," Raditz added.

"Obviously," Vegeta growled. He had only been wearing his for a total of five minutes and he was already tired of it. Still, he was going to prove to his pack that he could behave himself for one night among humans. Earlier that day Bulma had made a bet with him that he would either leave the party early or rip his suit off before the night was through. He didn't intend to lose. "Are they already in the ballroom?"

"I think so," Nappa said.

"Hn." Vegeta cast one more suspicious glance before stalking off to the stairs to go upstairs where the party was being held.

Raditz released his breath and crossed his arms over his chest. "That was close."

"Anyway, we need to be discreet." Nappa glanced over his shoulder once more. "They don't have anyone checking for invitations. That's where we come in. When he comes, we won't allow him in unless he shows us his invitation. If he tries to start an argument, we'll knock him out and hide him somewhere."

"Got it," Raditz said, nodding. "So where are the people coming in?"

"Back door. There's an elevator that takes them directly to the third floor to bypass the Briefs' living quarters. But he might come in the front, so one of us needs to stay at each door. If you feel his ki, let me know."

"I hope this works."

"It'll work." Nappa pulled at his shirt collar, muttering under his breath about the poor tailoring of his shirt. Never mind the fact that Bulma had to have it custom made to fit his enormous build. "The guests will be arriving soon, so let's go."

The two saiyans turned and went downstairs where they parted ways, with Nappa heading to the back door while Raditz went to the front. Once at their stations, they stood off to the side to watch for the unwelcome guest who would inevitably show. Bulma had given him an oral invitation after dinner the night they were invited, but they were going to see to it that he didn't make it, giving Vegeta a chance for some one-on-one time with her.

Vegeta walked into the ballroom and looked around. The orchestra was already setting up on the stage and the scent of earthling delicacies spiced the air, wafting over from the buffet line where Mrs. Brief was standing with her blue-haired daughter. Dr. Brief was off to the side, giving instructions to a hired servant who was holding a tray of empty champagne flutes.

The saiyan prince strode across the room toward the female Briefs, his tail twitching behind him with every step. Bulma looked over when she heard him coming and smiled. "Hey, Vegeta, so you haven't changed your mind about coming yet, eh?"

"I don't change my mind," he grumbled as he came to a stop at her side.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't I know it? You're the most insufferably stubborn man I've ever met in my life."

"Hn."

"Where's Nappa and Raditz?"

"Downstairs."

"My, Vegeta," Mrs. Brief cut in, "You certainly look handsome tonight. I'm so glad you decided to come!"

"He'd look even better if he'd worn the tie and jacket I gave him," Bulma grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Don't be silly, dear."

Vegeta huffed and looked Bulma's dress up and down. The halter dress had a deep crossover v-neck, revealing abundant cleavage, a low back, and a long, flowing skirt of satin the color of amethyst. He looked away from her, mildly embarrassed. "And what the hell are you wearing?" he asked sharply.

"What do you _mean_ what am I wearing?" she asked, her arms uncrossing as she planted her hands on her hips.

"I would hardly consider that appropriate attire, girl."

"Well, I didn't ask for your opinion, did I?"

"I think she looks lovely, Vegeta," Mrs. Brief said. She giggled and excused herself to go speak with her husband.

They didn't have to wait long before the guests started arriving. Bulma went over to where her parents were greeting them and started shaking hands, hugging, and making small talk. Vegeta stayed where he was, watching their interactions from afar. Though he intended to keep Bulma's attention all night, he didn't want her to figure that out, so he had to maintain some distance from her at least part of the time.

Once most of the guests had come in, the orchestra started playing and the servants started making their rounds with hors d'oeuvres and champagne. Vegeta picked his way through the crowd until he spotted the crown of aqua blue hair and went over to stand at Bulma's side as she finished a conversation with an old man who was openly staring at her chest. As soon as Bulma finished talking to him, Vegeta wrapped his tail around her waist and pulled her away from the old pervert with a low growl.

"Vegeta, what is your deal?" she hissed.

"Did you even notice where that idiot's eyes were the whole time you were talking to him?"

Bulma averted her eyes, pretending to watching the dancing couples around her. "What's it matter to you where he was looking?"

"Stupid girl."

"Don't tell me you're jealous."

"Jealous of what?"

She rolled her eyes. "Never mind." She moved a little closer to him as a younger man walked by, leering at her. "Where's Yamcha? He should have been here by now."

Vegeta's lip curled contemptuously. "That fool probably forgot to come."

"I don't think he'd forget this, Vegeta," she said sternly. "It's hard to forget a party celebrating the holiday, especially when I'm here."

"I fail to see how it matters if he's here or not anyway," Vegeta said. "He's an idiot and a weakling, hardly worth your attention."

"Despite what you might believe, strength isn't the only thing that matters." Bulma looked around again and sighed when she didn't see her fiancé. "I'll have you know he's very sweet, and caring, and thoughtful."

Vegeta snorted and pulled her closer when another man walked past. "When I said weakling, I didn't just mean physically. He's a pushover. How can you be happy with someone who lets you walk all over him?"

Bulma inhaled sharply when she found herself pressed against Vegeta's chest. She could smell his natural, wild scent and feel his warmth on every inch of her body. "I don't walk all over him. Unlike you, he doesn't keep fighting when it would be simpler to compromise or admit he was wrong. And he _is_ always wrong."

"And that's appealing to you?" Vegeta moved his right arm around her waist, holding her even closer.

"It's better than fighting all the time."

He snorted again. "Admit it. He's boring."

"He is not boring," she said angrily. She moved her hand to his chest to push him away, but he was immovable. "What's your interest in who I date anyway? I never thought you'd be the type to care about something like that. You don't even know what love is."

"Perhaps not," he said, taking her hand in his own to move it away from his chest. "But it is my duty to protect you, even if it's just from a failure of a relationship."

"Oh, are you two dancing?" Mrs. Brief squealed when she saw them standing together. She grinned and patted Vegeta's back. "I was going to tell you something, but it can wait. Have fun!"

They stood there for a moment in silence, baffled by Mrs. Brief's quick interruption of their conversation that was turning into a heated argument. No sooner had she appeared than she left, but it was enough to make some of their rising anger ebb away.

"I guess we could."

"What?"

"Dance." Bulma shrugged and moved her other hand to his shoulder. "We can at least look like we enjoy each other's company, right?"

"So now you don't like being around me? Then I suppose that means you'll never pester me to waste time with you instead of training."

Bulma groaned. "Whatever. Now what do you mean it's your duty to protect me? I don't recall ever asking you to protect me."

"Yet you always assumed I would, at least when you were still a sniveling little brat."

"Aw, Vegeta, does that mean you don't think I'm a brat anymore?"

"I didn't say that. You're not a sniveling _little _brat anymore."

She scowled at him as they started dancing, neither of them paying much attention to the music but still moving gracefully with the rhythm. "You're such a jerk, Vegeta. You don't have to protect me, especially not from Yamcha."

"Yes, I suppose you're right. How could you not be happy with him? You like someone who always agrees with you, never gives you a challenge, can't hold an intelligent conversation with you, has no purpose in life, would produce disgustingly ugly children, and is so far below you that you'll wonder every day why you ever decided to mate with him."

"What makes you so sure you know what I want, huh? You don't know anything about me!" Bulma tried to pull away from him, but his grip was unbreakable.

"Maybe not," he conceded, "But I know that you get bored easily with him and the only way for him to regain your interest is to lavish you with gifts. Don't try to deny it, I can see it in your body language if your scent didn't make it obvious enough already."

"You can _smell_ my interest?" she asked skeptically.

"Hn."

"That's a load of bullshit if I ever heard any."

"Let's look at it from the other perspective. Would he be happy with you? I'm sure someone as foolishly egotistic as him doesn't enjoy having to bend to your will all the time. He would resent the fact that you earn all the money, and he would want you around more than you would be as you run your father's corporation. He wants a family and you don't, he wants to get married, and from what I've seen, you don't."

"You know even less about him than you do about me!"

"You underestimate my powers of observation. Besides, your parents don't particularly care for him either."

Bulma gaped at him, unable for a moment to come up with a retort. "My parents have always loved Yamcha! My mother especially wants me to marry him and give her grandbabies."

"Maybe she used to." Vegeta shrugged and released her when the music ended. "But if he's so _thoughtful _why isn't he here?" Having planted seeds of doubt, Vegeta turned and stalked over to the buffet line where he saw Nappa and Raditz gorging themselves like barbarians.

The two large saiyans looked up from the buffet when they felt Vegeta approaching, his ki slightly higher than normal. He was scowling and the tip of his tail twitched against his hip, so something obviously had him riled up, no doubt the blue-haired girl.

"Where the hell have you two been?" he barked.

Raditz was the first to swallow and answer, "What do you mean? We've been here."

Vegeta grunted and started picking at the food. He wasn't overly hungry, but if there was food available he would eat it. Besides, it gave him an excuse to avoid Bulma for a while until he was able to rein in his anger a little more. She was so infuriatingly dense when it came to her fiancé. How could she still think they were a good match when they so obviously weren't? Stupid girl! He refused to let her waste her life with that miserable wretch.

"Where is that idiot, anyway?" he wondered aloud. "That dog never misses any chance he gets to trail after the girl."

Nappa and Raditz exchanged a quick glance before shrugging. "Maybe he decided not to come," Nappa said.

"Hn." Vegeta scanned the crowd. He didn't feel the weakling's ki. "I doubt that."

"Who cares anyway?" Raditz asked.

Vegeta huffed and went over to lean against the wall with his arms crossed. "I don't."

"Sure," Nappa murmured. He smirked as he grabbed more food to eat. The scar-faced earthling wasn't going to show up to the party, that was for sure. He and Raditz took care of that. He might be confused when he wakes up, but that didn't matter. What was important was giving Vegeta and Bulma a chance to talk without him interfering. If only Vegeta would stop sulking over there and go find her again…

A few minutes later Bulma emerged from the crowd to go stand with Nappa and Raditz at the buffet line. Her arms were crossed over her chest, careful to hide herself rather than enhance it from all the wandering eyes of her male company. Maybe Vegeta was right about her attire. She shook her head; no, what she was wearing was fine, it was just the men who had no decency.

"Hey guys," she said as she came over to them, facing away from the crowd. "What're you up to? Eating all our food?"

Raditz blushed a little as he retracted his outstretched hand from another helping of fruit salad. "It's good food," he mumbled.

Bulma laughed as she grabbed a few grapes. "You can have all you want, Raditz. Mom ordered enough food for you saiyans and _then _enough for everyone else." She turned to watch everyone dancing and sighed. "Have you seen Yamcha?"

Nappa coughed a few times as he nearly inhaled the olives he was eating. "Yamcha?" he wheezed. "No, haven't seen him."

She raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. She dipped a pita chip in the hummus as she turned back to the crowd, still searching for her missing fiancé. "Have you at least seen Vegeta?"

"He's over there," Raditz said, gesturing behind them with his head.

Bulma looked behind the two large saiyans and giggled when she saw Vegeta leaning on the wall in his classic arrogant, aloof posture. She walked over to him and stood directly in front of him, effectively blocking his view of anything else. "Hey, Vegeta."

"What do you want?"

"How about another dance?"

Scoffing, he turned his head to the side so he wouldn't have to look at her. "Where's your love-sick puppy? Don't tell me he hasn't arrived yet. That wouldn't be very _sweet _of him, would it?"

"You want the truth? No, he's not here. But I'm not going to let that ruin my night. You're here so I can spend some time with you instead. I don't see you enough outside of eating and passing in the halls when you're either going to or from the gravity room." She put her left hand on his shoulder and took his left hand in her right. "So come on. You might as well try to have some fun too. You don't look like you're enjoying yourself."

Vegeta put his right arm around her waist. "And you think your company will make this foolish social gathering more bearable?"

"Beats being a wallflower."

"A what?"

"Never mind."

When they took the first step of their second dance together, neither of them thought they would spend the rest of the night dancing together. They also never would have guessed that the topic of Bulma's missing fiancé would fail to come up as they talked – or bantered. As they whirled around the ballroom, expertly avoiding the other couples, they lost track of time, so they were both surprised when there was the collective shout at midnight, "Happy New Year!"

Even then, they kept dancing until much later when the orchestra finished and started packing up as the guests slowly began leaving, somewhat unsteady on their feet from champagne and exhaustion. Though they weren't dancing anymore, Vegeta still held onto Bulma, and she didn't try to break away from him. Instead, she rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him.

"Thanks for the dance, Vegeta," she murmured sleepily.

"You should go to bed, girl."

"Yeah," she said through a yawn, "I know. I'm tired."

Slowly, almost reluctantly, Vegeta stepped back, letting his arms slip from around her slender waist. Bulma shivered at the loss of contact with his warm body. She smiled at him and turned around to leave, stopping at the door where her parents were to hug them and wish them a goodnight before disappearing from view. For some reason, Vegeta felt oddly disappointed by her silent departure.

…

Groaning, he rubbed his aching head as he sat up. He cracked his eyes open and looked around, but he had no idea where he was. It was pitch black aside from a line of light a few feet in front of him. He rose to his feet unsteadily and groaned again as a wave of dizziness washed over him. "What happened?"

He stumbled over to where the light was and felt around on the wall until he found a doorknob, then turned it and let himself out. He winced at the bright light and quietly closed the door behind him. "Where am I?"

After taking a moment to adjust to the light, he looked around and recognized the front hall of Capsule Corporation. He looked behind him at the door he came through. That was a storage closet. He rubbed his head again. "What time is it?"

"Oh no, the party!" he tried to move, but he swayed on his feet and slowly collapsed to the floor. "Did I make it? This feels like a hell of a hangover."

He was about to try standing again when he heard someone coming down the hall toward him. Looking up, he saw it was his blue-haired angel. She was wearing khakis, a dark red shirt, and a white lab coat. That didn't look like party clothes. He frowned. Did he miss the party or did he make it? He couldn't remember. He was still wracking through his memories when Bulma gasped and ran over to help him up.

"Yamcha, what are you doing here? What happened to you?" she asked as she grabbed his arms to pull him to his feet.

"I'm not really sure," he slurred. "I just remember coming to the party…"

"Yamcha," she growled, "You never came to the party. I waited for you all night."

"But Bulma, I was here, and I was going, and…" he paused for another groan. "And I just woke up in the storage closet."

"The storage closet?" she asked, eyebrow raising. "You got wasted _before _coming here?"

"No, I don't think so. I didn't drink anything before I came, I swear."

"Why else would you wake up in the storage closet?"

He sighed and leaned against the wall for support. He didn't know how to explain it if he couldn't remember what happened. He kept searching for the memory until he finally stumbled upon it.

_He walked up to the front door, surprised to see Raditz standing there, barring the way. The large saiyan did not step aside when he went up the steps to the door. "Excuse me," he said, trying to be polite, "can I get through here?"_

_ "That depends," Raditz said haughtily. "Do you have an invitation?"_

_ "Do I – do I what? I don't need an invitation! You were there when Bulma asked me to come!"_

_ Raditz shook his head. "Sorry, but I can't let you in if you don't have an invitation."_

_ "What are you talking about? I've never needed an invitation before. Look, pal, get out of my way. Bulma's got to be waiting for me. Do you want me to call her so she can tell you I can come in?" he snarled._

_ Unfazed, Raditz again shook his head. "I'm not going to let you bother her. She's busy. Now, if you don't have your invitation, you need to leave."_

_ "You can't kick me out!"_

_ "Are you sure about that?" Raditz asked menacingly._

_ He took a step back, forgetting the stairs, and fell down. He glared at the long-haired saiyan as he made little effort to conceal his laughter._

_ "Now then," Raditz said, stepping down next to him, "Lights out."_

_ The last thing he knew was an explosion of pain in the side of his head._

"That bastard!" Yamcha growled, his hands tightening into fists. "That fucking bastard! He wouldn't let me in and then he knocked me out."

"Who?"

"Raditz."

Bulma snorted. "Raditz? Why would he do something like that? Either you're lying or your mind's all jumbled up."

"I'm not lying and I'm not confused, Bulma," Yamcha snapped. He sighed and raked his hand through his hair. "Look, B, I really love you and I want to be with you, but I'm not sure this relationship is going to work out. You've got these saiyans living here and they all hate me. I don't even feel comfortable visiting you anymore. And – and your parents don't seem to like me too well anymore and I just – I just don't think we can make this work."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm breaking up with you, B."

Bulma didn't say anything for a few moments as she looked into his deep brown eyes, trying to figure out if he was joking or angry. But all she saw there was hurt. She swallowed and nodded slightly. "You're right, Yam. It isn't going to work. I don't want to get married anymore and it's unfair for me to keep stringing you along like this."

"We can still be friends."

"Yeah. Friends." She forced a small smile and hugged him. "I'm sorry about what Raditz did. I don't know what's gotten into him."

"It's not your fault."

Bulma kissed his cheek. "I still love you."

"I love you too."

"Goodbye."

Yamcha ran his hand through her silky hair one last time before pulling away from her and walking out. Both of them knew this was their last breakup. Countless times they broke up, only to get back together again later when their tempers cooled. But this time was different. It was inevitable. It had been coming for weeks. In a small way, they were lucky their wedding was interrupted, saving them from a failed marriage and more heartache. But, mutual or not, this breakup was the most painful because it was the most real, the end of a relationship that spanned almost half their lives.

_A/N: Yes, for those who are unsure, Frieza is definitely immortal. It's not unreasonable for Porunga to be able to grant that wish if you think about it; he is able to restore life, and anyway, Shenron could grant immortality and eternal youth (and did, if you recall). I didn't actually write the dream sequence of Vegeta kissing Bulma, sorry. And I'm happy you like my take on Vegeta's "saiyan wit"... ha... yeah, I had fun with the disemboweling bit._

_I know Vegeta was rather talkative, but only because it furthered his purpose of waning Bulma's interest in Yamcha and there's not really any better way in this case. Anyway, that's the end of BulmaxYamcha and yes, Raditz and Nappa are totally devious. Tell me you didn't laugh once in this chapter. I can't read it without laughing and I'm the one who wrote it._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	57. Refocusing

Refocusing

Frieza never cared much for his older brother, Cooler, so he was more than aggravated when, shortly after he made his wish on Namek, his father contacted him and ordered him to report to Planet Cold. While he was not against visiting his home planet, which he rarely got to see, he was not thrilled about the 'meeting' with his father and brother. Mostly likely Cooler was flustered about Frieza's rapidly growing empire while his grew slowly. In effect, Frieza's empire was overtaking Cooler's, and soon enough the smaller empire would be unable to grow at all without breaking the treaty between the brothers. It had been agreed many years ago that neither of Cold's sons could cross the other's territory to conquer more for himself. Of course Frieza saw that as his opportunity to limit Cooler, and he was working to do just that. He had expected Cooler to figure it out, but he had hoped for better timing. Right now all he wanted to do was travel to 1076XR and punish his pet monkey for his disobedience.

Even more irritating was the distance between Planet Cold and 1076XR. Frieza's home planet was in galaxy AA, far from XR. He had to spend four months traveling home, attend the meeting, which could last anywhere from an hour to a year, and then spend another five to six months traveling to 1076XR. If not for the fact that his ship was much faster than the space pods the rest of his army traveled in, he would be looking at a two and a half year holdup in his plan to destroy the monkey race once and for all.

The tyrant did consider ignoring his father's summons, but in the end he figured it wasn't worth the trouble later. Though he was more powerful, he did still respect King Cold enough that he didn't want to raise his ire. Cooler he couldn't care less about, but if he had gone crying to daddy about the unfairness of Frieza's spreading empire, there was little Frieza could do about it. He liked to believe he was his father's favored son, though he was younger, but that did not mean he was able to easily weasel his way out of punishment when the accusations against him were serious enough. Unfortunately, manipulating the treaty to his advantage probably counted as a serious offense against his brother.

Oh well, at least he could boast to his foolish brother that he had been granted immortality. It would be satisfying, indeed, to see the expression on Cooler's face when he heard that his little brother had risen to a level of glory he could never hope to achieve.

…

"Girl!" Vegeta roared as he kicked the door to her laboratory open. "These training bots you created are less than adequate."

Bulma spun around in her desk chair and looked up the stairs where Vegeta was standing with his arms full of broken and mangled robots. Seeing that he had her attention, Vegeta dropped them all over the rail, smirking as she winced at the clatter and clanging of metal hitting the floor below. He came down the stairs then, tail flicking behind him.

"What do you want this time, Vegeta?" she sighed. "I just finished those yesterday morning. If you can't be careful enough to keep from breaking them right away, I don't see why I should bother building more for you."

"It's not my fault you built such fragile units." Vegeta hopped onto one of the workstations and crossed his arms over his chest. "I need more."

She huffed as she turned back to her computer to finish the email she was writing to the head of cardiology research. "You're going to have to wait. I'm drowning in work at Capsule Corporation because I keep putting everything on hold for _you_."

"You consider that more important than living when Frieza comes to destroy this mudball?" Vegeta shook his head as he slid off the workstation and started pacing around the laboratory. "By now the pods have reached the base and he knows we're still here. I have no way of finding out where he is at this moment. He could be on his way here right now, maybe only days away."

"I thought you said we would have two years," Bulma said, still distracted with the email. "It's only been one year. There's still time. Besides, what good would training for a few days with my bots do you? You're not going to increase your power that much in a few days, even if I give you the best training equipment you'll ever have."

"That's not the point!"

"Vegeta, honestly!" Bulma snapped, exasperated with his demands. Ever since she broke up with Yamcha he had been in her laboratory almost every day ordering her to either build new training bots, fix the gravity simulator, or make upgrades to increase the gravity. She was at the end of her rope with him. "I understand that you need to get stronger, but I can't keep dropping everything to serve you! You're such a jerk! Go ask my dad for new bots if it's that important to you. I'm too busy right now."

Growling, Vegeta stalked over to her desk and whirled her chair around so she had to face him. "I don't have time for this! Build me new training bots at once!"

Bulma stood up and put her hands on her hips, brow furrowed in a scowl. "Now listen up, Vegeta, 'cause I'm only going to say this once. You are obsessed with training and it's not good for you. You're driving me crazy coming in here every day expecting me to build you better training equipment when you break everything I make for you. I am sick and tired of you ordering me around, so you can just go to my dad from now on!"

Having finally told him off, she sat down and spun her chair around, intent on ignoring him if he continued arguing with her. She was done listening to him. He thought she was a brat? He was acting worse than a spoiled child. She indulged him too much and now he was used to it and wanted more. She didn't mind helping him – really, she didn't – but he had pushed her past her breaking point. For the past month she had been constantly building bots and upgrading the gravity simulator, spending hours and hours every day helping him without receiving a single word of gratitude. No longer busy trying to balance her work and social life, Vegeta figured she had more time to devote to his training equipment, and for a while she allowed his demands to take the place of her former social life. But when that time started consuming her entire days without leaving a single minute for work at Capsule Corporation, she had to draw the line whether he liked it or not.

Seeing she wasn't going to budge on the issue, Vegeta turned and stormed out of her laboratory to go find Dr. Brief. The fact that she was forcing him to ask for upgrades from him was made worse by the fact that the old scientist was almost always at headquarters, and today was no exception. Though it was almost lunch time, Vegeta left the compound to go to the headquarters building to discuss training bots with Dr. Brief. It only took him a minute to fly across the city. He landed in front of the tall building and walked in, giving a warning growl to the receptionist before she could give him a cheerful greeting, and stalked over to the elevators. He still hated them. They were small, confined, smelly, and often crowded, but they were the easiest way up to the president's office suite on the top floor.

He only had to wait a few seconds for one of the elevator doors to open, a small crowd of scientists pouring out to leave on lunch break. Vegeta stepped onto the elevator once it was vacated and pushed the button to take him to the top floor. He felt the small lurch as it began its ascent and leaned against the wall to wait, watching the numbers displayed above the buttons steadily increasing until it came to a stop at the top. Once there, he had to put his finger on a small scanner before the doors would open, allowing him entrance to the office suite.

Vegeta stepped off the elevator and, without giving any verbal greeting, strode over to the oversized mahogany desk where Dr. Brief was sitting, talking to someone on the phone. The saiyan stopped in front of the desk and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for the old man to look up and acknowledge him. His tail flicked behind him impatiently as he glanced around the office while he waited. Leather furniture, a kitchenette, a bathroom off to the side, and the desk where Dr. Brief sat in front of a wall of glass, providing an overlooking view of West City. It was essentially the same as Bulma's office, just larger.

Finally, after a few minutes had passed, Dr. Brief hung up the phone and folded his hands on the desk. "Hello, Vegeta. What brings you here?"

The prince wrapped his tail around his waist again, though it continued its agitated flicking. "The girl told me she won't build me any more training equipment and to ask you to do it instead."

Though he wasn't at all surprised, Dr. Brief also wasn't entirely happy with his daughter for shoving her extra work onto his shoulders. He was busy enough as president of the corporation, and while he didn't mind helping out where he could, he didn't want to be the one solely responsible for Vegeta's training bots and gravity room. He sighed and scratched his cat, ever on his shoulder, behind the ears. "Alright, son, I'll help you until she cools down a bit and catches up on her regular work. Now, what do you need me to do for you?"

"I need new bots since I destroyed them all today. I will also require an upgrade in gravity level soon. I have almost reached the current limit."

Dr. Brief nodded thoughtfully and cleared some papers off his desk, pulled out a pad of paper, and started jotting down notes. "The current gravity is 400Gs, isn't it? We'll have to find a way to increase it without endangering the structural integrity of the room. As for your training bots, do you have the, er, remains of them?"

"They're at the compound."

"Very well. I'll look at them after I get home tonight. Until then you'll have to train without them. I have some pressing matters to attend to today that I can't set back, but I'll try to get those bots built for you as soon as I can."

Vegeta growled, but he didn't argue. At least Dr. Brief was willing to work on them when Bulma wasn't. Figuring he had already wasted enough precious time, Vegeta nodded and turned to leave. He wanted to get back to the compound before all the food was gone and with time to eat before Mrs. Brief wanted to go grocery shopping.

He arrived back at the compound and went straight to the kitchen to eat lunch. Bulma and Nappa were already sitting there, and Mrs. Brief was at the sink washing dishes. Vegeta took his seat next to Bulma and started eating, ignoring her completely. He was still angry with her for her refusal to build his training equipment. Bulma, sensing his foul mood, didn't attempt to make conversation with him and left the kitchen as soon as she was finished with her lunch to return to her laboratory to catch up on Capsule Corporation business.

Soon after her departure, Nappa finished his lunch and left the kitchen, leaving Vegeta alone with Mrs. Brief. The old saiyan wasn't interested in returning to his training right away. He still spent most of his waking hours training in the yard of the compound, but when he felt how much power the younger saiyans were gaining in the same amount of time, he began to lose his former self-confidence. He wasn't surprised that their gains were greater and faster; he was, by normal saiyan standards, an old man, though he still had many years – decades, even – to live. He was at the end of his prime; most saiyan warriors, especially those of his caliber, never reached his age, being killed in battle or in fights with young upstarts. While his power had still grown dramatically since beginning his stay on Earth, he was far behind the rest of his race when he had formerly been at the top, second only to his prince. Now, with a power level peaking at 85,000, he felt inadequate, nothing but a pawn among titans.

Of course that didn't mean he didn't still have much to offer. He still knew many techniques that he could teach the others if they would take the time to spar with him. More than a soldier, he had become a trainer. At least now he would stand a chance against most of the Ginyu Force, Frieza's elite squadron. Perhaps he wouldn't be able to take on the captain, but the rest of them would be easy kills for him. So no, he wouldn't be _completely_ useless in the fight when Frieza came to Earth, but he wouldn't be much help at all against the tyrant himself, not if the rumors he heard about the lizard's true power were true. Nappa had never believed himself to be the one to gain vengeance for his people; that was always Vegeta's task in life. Still, it hurt to know he was the weakest of his comrades despite being so much stronger than he ever thought possible for any saiyan other than a super saiyan. And it was because of that hurt that he was so discouraged and disinclined to train at the moment. What good would it do? Missing an hour or so of training wasn't going to make any significant impact on the outcome of the battle.

Nappa walked down the main hall of the compound as if to head out back, but he paused when he reached a metal door with a keypad on the wall next to it. He glanced over his shoulder and then fixed his gaze on the door. Slowly, he raised his fist to the metal door and rapped his knuckles against its cool surface.

Bulma jumped when she heard someone knocking on her door. Sighing, she set down the power core for the robot she was building and went up the stairs to open the door for her visitor. Her eyebrows raised with her surprise when she saw who was standing on the other side of the door, waiting to gain entry to her laboratory. "Nappa? What are you doing here?"

Shrugging nonchalantly, he answered, "Just thought I'd stop by for a visit."

"A visit?" she asked, trying to mask her skepticism. After a moment of awkward silence, she nodded and turned to go back down the stairs with the large saiyan following her. "Was there something you wanted to talk about?"

The saiyan looked around the laboratory as he descended the stairs, taking in every little aspect of the unfamiliar environment. When he didn't answer her question, Bulma continued, "If you want training equipment, you'll have to come back some other time. The shop is closed for business for a while until I can get back on my feet at the company."

He grunted. "Do you honestly think training equipment would really help me?"

Shrugging, she leaned against the workstation where her robot was laid out in pieces. "I don't know, would it?"

"Honestly? No." He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. "I don't think anything is going to help me gain more power. I've been at the same level for over three months. I made big gains when I was using the gravity room…"

"But?"

"But I've reached my limit." He gestured to the robot. "What's that you're building?"

Ignoring his attempt to change the subject, Bulma prodded, "Your limit? I didn't think you saiyans had a limit. All of you just keep getting stronger and stronger. It's unbelievable."

Nappa snorted, shaking his head. "How old do you think I am?"

"Huh?"

"I'm over 70 Earth years old."

Bulma's eyes shifted from her work over to the bald saiyan. "Over 70? Damn, you look good for your age. I would've pegged you at 50, tops." She smiled and resumed assembling the robot.

He shrugged again. "Saiyans age slower than you humans so we can fight longer. But I'm hitting the end of my prime. It came faster than it would have naturally due to my excessive amount of battles, beatings, and starvation. Serving Frieza aged me. Point is, I'm not getting any stronger."

"Oh…" Bulma again set down the power core to brush her hair back over her shoulders. "I'm sorry, I guess."

"Don't bother pitying me."

"You sound like Vegeta."

"Who do you think taught him?"

"Right." Bulma sighed heavily and sat on the stool at her workstation. "Well, if it helps, I know how you feel. You know how Vegeta was training me for a while? I hit a roadblock or something. I could never get past it, so I just gave up. I still spar with Chi-Chi now and then to keep my technique from getting rusty, but I'm not getting any better."

"You could grow stronger." He pushed away from the wall and started pacing around, much like Vegeta did whenever he visited her laboratory. "I've seen how strong humans can become. You are nowhere near your potential."

Chuckling, Bulma shook her head and picked up another piece of robot to finish building. "My friends are special people, Nappa. No normal humans could ever get that strong. They've got some sort of innate strength or affinity for fighting, kind of like saiyans. I don't have that."

Nappa paused, facing away from the blue-haired scientist. His brows scrunched as he contemplated what she said. What made her friends so special? Was it just that they were willing to go out of their way to train as hard as they did so that they could become so strong? Were they some sort of mutants, capable of manipulating ki unlike the rest of their pathetic species? Or was it something else? Did all humans have the same potential, locked away somewhere, not accessed because of ignorance or apathy? "How willing are you to test that theory?"

"What do you mean?"

"If you had a proper teacher, you could probably overcome your current limits."

Bulma was silent for a few minutes; the only sound in the laboratory was of Nappa's boots as he paced and the clinking of metal as she put the robot together. Finally, she looked up at the large saiyan, her head cocked to the side. "Are you saying Vegeta wasn't a good teacher?"

"Not really," Nappa answered. He rubbed his head and turned to face her. "He's a great learner, able to master any fighting technique, but he's never been good at teaching what he's learned to anyone. He can show you how and tell you what you're doing wrong, but when it comes to telling you how to fix it, he's not the best. It's like he can't wrap his mind around your inability to figure it out on your own because he never has that problem."

Bulma laughed quietly as she finally inserted the power core into the robot's body. "Yeah, that's basically it. So where might I find a better teacher?"

"Are you really interested in learning?" When she nodded, Nappa opened his arms wide and smirked.

She stared at him blankly. "You? No way, you'd kill me!"

He huffed and lowered his arms to his sides. "Would I make the offer if I didn't think you were capable of handling my training?"

Bulma lowered her gaze to the table. "No," she murmured, "I suppose not."

"Then you accept?"

Biting her lip, she nodded. If Nappa was the one who trained Vegeta and maybe even Raditz, then he was probably a good teacher, right? She _did_ want to grow stronger. Her interest in fighting wasn't what it had been when she was a teenager, but if nothing else, she was motivated to train by her fear. Frieza was coming, and she had no idea how long it would take for him to reach Earth or what he would be like or how strong his soldiers could be. She wanted to be ready for anything, she wanted to be able to help her friends, if only by being able to take care of herself while they fought the big guns. Aside from that, a small part of her still wanted to impress Vegeta with her strength. She knew he put a lot of stock in someone's power; though she knew he still liked her despite her weakness, she thought he might like her (and respect her) more if she was stronger.

"But I'm not going to be able to train a lot," she told the giant saiyan. "I'm still really busy with work, as you can see."

He grunted and leaned against the wall again. "Fair enough. I need time to do my own training anyway. Another thing, I don't want Vegeta to know about me training you."

"Why not?"

'Because I don't want him to figure out I'm trying to make you more appealing to him.' Nappa shook his head and stroked his mustache with his thumb. "He wouldn't like me spending time training you instead of training myself. He knows my strength hasn't been growing and he probably thinks it's because I'm slacking off already."

"Oh." She shrugged one shoulder. "I guess that's fair enough. So when do you want to start?"

"Now."

Bulma dropped the robot arm she had picked up. "Now? Nappa, did you hear anything I just said? I'm busy!"

"And now is the perfect time to train, when Vegeta is out with your mother. He won't be here to feel our ki together."

The blue-haired woman glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed. Nappa was right. Grocery shopping was the only time Vegeta ever left the compound; it was the only time he was gone for a predictable length of time. "Alright, Nappa, you win. Let me go get changed. Where do you want to meet?"

"Back yard."

"In the middle of winter. Of course." Bulma groaned as she stood up and went up the stairs to exit her laboratory. She was going to have to put on some warm clothes. Since Vegeta and her mom were already gone, her training session probably wouldn't be very long and her body wouldn't have time to warm up from exercise. 'I hope this is worth it. I'm already overloaded with work and if Vegeta finds out what I'm doing he'll be even more mad that I refused to build his stupid training bots.'

…

"Hey, green man, why don't you let me train the kid for a while?" Raditz laughed when Piccolo's body slammed into the ground courtesy of Gohan's double axe handle.

Spitting out a mouthful of blood, Piccolo picked himself up from the ground and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He glanced up at Gohan, then over at the long-haired saiyan who was taking a break from sparring with Goku. "Be my guest."

"How 'bout it, kid?" Raditz levitated off the ground, facing off against his nephew. "Ready for a real spar?"

Grinning, Gohan nodded and shifted into his fighting stance. He loved his spars against his Uncle Raditz, though he had never won one and ended up unconscious almost every time. Still, he knew he learned the most from the experienced warrior, and, as much as he respected his old sensei, he realized that his uncle was an even harsher teacher who wouldn't pull any punches. It was his spars with his uncle that helped him grow the most in power because it was after those spars that he had to recover the most. Only half saiyan, his physiology still made his power grow dramatically after severe fights.

"Alright, Gohan," Raditz said, taking his own stance. "You know the rules, right?"

"Anything goes."

"Right. Now give me your best shot."

Immediately Gohan shot forward and punched at Raditz's face with a right hook, but his fist passed through an afterimage. A second later, he was smacked down to the ground feet from where Piccolo had recently landed. Not one to give up, Gohan leaped to his feet and darted into the air where he felt his uncle's ki and started furiously punching and kicking, but the large saiyan was too fast, easily blocking and dodging every one of his attacks, no matter how refined his technique was.

Raditz waited for Gohan's energy to drain somewhat before he went on the offensive. Seeing his nephew panting with the effort it took to keep up his speed of attacks, he blocked one final kick and swung his left arm around, feinting a jab to the ribs, then caught Gohan with a right kick to the side that sent him spiraling to the ground. The boy landed roughly, but again he got up and, raising his small hands above his head, started gathering energy for the attack he learned from his first mentor.

Gohan was still powering up his masenko when Goku strolled out of the house, having just finished his snack. He went over and stood next to Piccolo, watching the fight with his hands resting on his hips. "He's getting so strong."

"Yes. I can sense a deeper power somewhere inside him." Piccolo watched as the small boy fell to the ground once more. This time, he was slower in getting up, coughing up a glob of bloody phlegm.

Goku smirked. "You sensed it too?"

"Why do you think I trained him in the first place?"

"Here I always thought you took him as pupil out of the goodness of your heart." Goku gave a shout of praise when Gohan finally landed a solid punch to Raditz's gut.

"I don't have much more to teach him."

Goku watched the Namekian from the corner of his eye, still keeping up with the ongoing spar with his other senses. "What do you mean?"

Piccolo crossed his arms over his chest. "He's an exceptionally fast learner. I've trained him for over two years. He's mastered about everything I know, and I'm sure he's stronger than me already."

"You might be right about that." Goku shifted so he was facing Piccolo. "Well, what do you say we have a spar? No sense wasting time watching those two."

"If you think you're up to it." Smirking, Piccolo took a few steps away from Goku and whirled around, his cape billowing in the wind. He sank into his fighting stance and raised his power level to match his old rival's.

"We could take it to the gravity room if you think that would be a better challenge."

"No thanks." Piccolo shot a look of contempt toward the capsule room. "It's too cramped in there for my style."

"Suit yourself. Ready?"

Instead of answering, Piccolo started the spar by firing a quick blast of energy at Goku, then phased from sight. Seeing the tailless saiyan following him, he stopped mid-flight and waited to begin a flurry of rapid hand-to-hand combat. Shockwaves rocked the house below as their fists collided with incredible speed and strength. Piccolo took a hard hit when he had to dodge Gohan's body as it flew toward him.

Both Piccolo and Gohan hit the ground, but whereas Piccolo was only slightly dazed from the hit he received from his sparring partner, Gohan was out cold, having finally taken one too many hits from his uncle. Piccolo gave him a pitying glance before he again darted into the air to resume his fight against Goku. What he wasn't expecting was for Raditz to join the spar, fighting on neither side. Thus, a three-way spar started between the three adults, none of them terribly concerned about Gohan's state. As long as they could feel his ki, they assumed he was fine without their aid. There was no time for coddling when they were training; it wasn't that they didn't care about him, but he needed to learn that people wouldn't be around to nurse him whenever he got hurt in a fight. Each of them had learned that lesson many times.

…

Bulma flipped over a sweep kick and landed in a crouch to duck under a left hook. She was only a few minutes into her daily training session with Nappa and she was already panting and sweating profusely. He didn't go easy on her, but she had to admit, she took a lot fewer blows when training with him than she did with Vegeta. He didn't go any easier on her, but he taught her how to avoid attacks a different way than making her experience what happened if she didn't avoid it first. She rolled out of the way when the saiyan redirected his fist to crash down on her shoulder, again landing on her feet facing him.

Most of what he had taught her were techniques especially useful for small warriors, those who relied more on speed and agility than brute strength to win a fight. She appreciated that he recognized her particular abilities and used them to her advantage; though he was obviously a very large, bulky warrior, he still knew the techniques she could master easily and improve for her own purposes. It had only been a couple weeks that Nappa had been teaching her for a little over an hour a day, but she could tell she was already getting stronger and faster. He'd been right about her needing a better teacher, it seemed.

"So you taught Vegeta like this?" she asked, catching his fist with both hands before it could slam into her chest and break her sternum.

"Yeah." Nappa pulled his fist back and shifted his weight to his left foot before swinging his right around to kick her. "As the general of the saiyan army, it was my duty to train the prince. When he was handed over to Frieza, I was assigned to be his bodyguard."

Bulma dropped to the ground as his leg swung around. "Why was he given to that creep anyway? I thought the saiyans hated him." She leaped back to her feet and dodged a right feinted punch, then caught the left uppercut.

"They did, but he threatened to destroy our planet if the king didn't comply with his demand. King Vegeta was left in a tough spot. Either give up his son or let all his people be killed." Nappa aimed another kick at her gut.

Bulma dodged the kick and stopped the follow-up punch with her forearm. "Can see how well that worked out. He destroyed your planet anyway."

"It honestly didn't come as a surprise to any of us." He started punching faster, swinging his fists in such rapid succession that it became difficult for her to keep up. "The real question was when he was going to do it. Vegeta was a temporary appeasement."

"Why'd he want Vegeta anyway?"

"He knew our people believed he would be the one to ascend to super saiyan. He would overthrow Frieza. He's powerful, but the lizard is paranoid. He had to eliminate the threat, even if it was based on a legend."

Nappa finally managed to strike Bulma, knocking her to the ground. The blue-haired fighter groaned as she sat up, rubbing her aching jaw. Hopefully that wouldn't leave a mark; it would be hard to explain that one away. She rose to her feet and moved into her defensive stance, ready for another round against the giant. "What _is _a super saiyan anyway?"

"A legendary warrior, the strongest being in the universe." Nappa shifted into his own stance. "Attack me."

Bulma ran forward, fist raised, and started trying to hit the saiyan. As large as he was, he was quick and hard to hit. "Even stronger than Frieza, huh?"

"Much stronger. The legend tells of a saiyan warrior who transformed. He was so powerful his own energy destroyed him. No one knows how he transformed or exactly how strong he was. The only known super saiyan lived over a thousand years ago." Nappa easily dodged and blocked each of Bulma's blows, which became increasingly sloppy the more frustrated she became.

"Do you believe Vegeta can transform?" Bulma paused for a moment to wipe the sweat from her face.

"If anyone can, it's him. He's already hundreds of times stronger than any saiyan I've ever heard of. And if nothing else, he's got the sheer will and determination to reach it." Nappa blocked a punch, but he missed the swift roundhouse kick. Still, it hardly fazed him.

She snorted. "Determination and will he's got, yeah. He's obsessed with his training. He always was, even when he was a kid, but it worries me. I don't think he even sleeps anymore."

"You care about him." It wasn't a question. Nappa caught her fists and held them, waiting for her response. He wanted her to admit it, to realize how she felt about the saiyan prince.

Bulma tried tugging her hands free, but he held fast. "Well, yes… of course I care about him. He's been like a brother—"

"You care about him more than a brother."

"I…" Sighing, Bulma stopped struggling against her sensei. Was what he said true? Did she care about Vegeta as more than a brother? Maybe. She thought she did before Yamcha came back. Actually, even after he was revived she still entertained thoughts about Vegeta that weren't exactly appropriate for siblings. She shrugged. "Maybe I do. I don't know. Even if I did, what difference would it make? He doesn't care about me that way and he never will. The only thing he cares about is training and defeating Frieza."

Nappa released her hands. "Why do you think he trains so hard? Yes, he wants revenge for his people, but there's more to it than that. He's doing it because he cares about you and your family, more than he lets on."

"You think so?"

"They'll be returning soon. You should go in and get changed before he gets here." Nappa walked away from her and sank into his stance to begin his kata. Bulma watched him for a minute before turning and going inside for a quick shower.

_A/N: I know there's been lots of fluff, but it's important for when the action starts. Hooray for first-time reviewers! Thanks so much for taking the time to drop me a review, it does mean a lot to me. Yeah, yeah, poor Yamcha, it was so unfair how they broke up... whatever. :) Sorry if the last chapter seemed short because it was actually a pretty long one, you know, word-count-wise. And thanks for the clarification on discrete/discreet, but I beg to differ on wrack/rack, which is more ambiguous in grammatical correctness. It can be argued that either spelling is correct in the way that I use it._

_Update on writing... it took me several long days to write chapter 64 and now I'm trying to get started on 65. Easier said than done. Also, I recently came up with an idea for an alternate timeline AU that I'm kind of excited about, but it might require some reading up on Frankenstein, X-Men, and cryogenics..._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	58. Epiphany

Epiphany

Bulma wiped her brow with the back of her sleeve before pulling her sweater off and casting it aside on the ground a fair distance away. It wasn't exactly warm outside, but she was working hard and it was making her hot. Now cooler, she rolled her shoulders back and moved into her fighting stance across from her opponent, smirking. In a way she felt bad that she was getting special training that was giving her such an advantage, but she knew that at least some of what she had learned was rubbing off on her brunette sparring partner.

"Alright, Chi, give me your best shot," the blue-haired woman taunted, shifting her weight to her left foot as she readied herself for an attack.

If Bulma thought it was warm outside, Chi-Chi was feeling it even more. She couldn't understand where her friend's sudden increases in speed and strength were coming from; whereas they had been about evenly matched since they started sparring together, now she was trailing far behind the older woman. It was making her feel frustrated and inadequate, unable to keep up with someone she had always had a slight advantage over. Frowning, she pounced forward, ready to strike, but as happened every time before, she wasn't fast enough to hit her blue-haired opponent.

"C'mon, Chi," Bulma jeered from behind her. "What was that?"

Chi-Chi whirled around and, before Bulma could dodge her blow, struck her with a fast jab to her abdomen, followed by a roundhouse kick that landed on her hip, knocking her over. Bulma fell to the ground, but rolled over, landing on her feet. She jumped up and started her own barrage of punches that the brunette had difficulty dodging until finally she caught one of the flying fists and twisted her arm around in a submission hold.

"How's that, B?" the young housewife spat.

"It hurts, I'll give you that," Bulma growled. Then, much to her opponent's surprise, she swung her arm around, taking Chi-Chi with it, and slammed her into the ground.

The brunette sat there for a moment, panting. "How did you do that?"

"Just a new trick I learned." Bulma sat down next to her friend and brushed a few stray strands of hair from her sweaty face.

"I thought Vegeta wasn't training you anymore."

"He's not." Biting her lip, Bulma hugged her knees to her chest and looked up at the cloudy blue sky. Now that she wasn't exercising, she was starting to feel the chill of the March afternoon on her skin.

"What do you mean he's not?" Chi-Chi demanded. "You have to be training with someone! There's no way you've been improving so much without someone's help."

"You're right about that." Bulma sighed as she stood up and brushed the dead grass from her sweatpants. She didn't know if she should tell Chi-Chi about Nappa's involvement in her training since he wanted her to keep it a secret from Vegeta. What if Chi-Chi told Goku, and Goku told Raditz, and Raditz told Vegeta? "Promise not to tell anyone if I tell you who it is?"

"Sure. Tell me." Chi-Chi also stood up and took her hair out of the bun she had it up in and combed it a few times with her fingers before putting it up again, capturing the strands that had escaped in their spar.

Kicking the ground with her toe, Bulma told her, "It's Nappa. He's been helping me for about a month."

"Wait, did you just say _Nappa_? That big old Neanderthal?" Chi-Chi scoffed, resting her hands on her hips. She would believe that when she saw it.

"Don't call him that, Chi," Bulma said, defending her sensei. "He's really not all that bad once he stops acting like a grouch. We've actually been getting along pretty well. I don't know what made him change his mind about me, but I'm not complaining."

"If you say so."

"Well, does it matter if you like him or not? You can tell his training has helped me. Maybe I can teach you some of the things he's taught me, though I doubt I'm as good a teacher as he is. He's surprisingly patient. Did you know he's actually the one who taught Vegeta how to fight since he was just a baby?"

Chi-Chi shook her head as she took her fighting stance again, ready to start another spar. "He told you that?"

"Yeah," Bulma replied, moving into her own stance. She raised her arms defensively and waited for Chi-Chi to make the first move. "He's told me a lot about Vegeta. It kind of makes me have a new level of respect for him. It's unbelievable what he's lived through. Raditz and Nappa too, but really, Vegeta's had it the hardest, being the prince and all."

"I bet." Chi-Chi darted forward and feinted a right jab, then caught Bulma with a left hook. Bulma quickly retaliated by dropping into a sweep kick. Chi-Chi fell to the ground, but immediately jumped back to her feet and dodged a blow aimed for her chest.

Bulma jumped over a kick and, while airborne, clasped her hands together and crashed them down on Chi-Chi's left shoulder, temporarily numbing her arm. "I know you don't really like any of them, but they're fighting on the good side now. They're going to defeat that Frieza creep."

Chi-Chi scoffed as she blocked a low punch with her forearm and spun around, catching Bulma with a back kick. "You mean _Goku _will defeat him. You know he's the strongest."

Rolling her eyes, Bulma back-flipped over another kick and landed a few feet away in a defensive crouch. "Actually, I'm pretty sure Vegeta is still stronger. And it's going to stay that way."

The brunette fighter charged forward and ducked under a punch, then landed her own directly on Bulma's solar plexus. She jumped back, waiting for the coughing heiress to recover before resuming the fight. "What, are you in love with him or something? You defend him enough. And he's all you ever talk about when you come over."

Bulma wiped a dribble of saliva from her lip with the back of her hand and glared at her friendly adversary. "Just because I talk about him doesn't mean I'm in love with him. Besides, it's just that I've been learning a lot about him lately. Nappa tells me things Vegeta never would."

"Really?" Chi-Chi blocked a punch, but missed the kick that knocked her off her feet. She grunted as she hit the ground. "Does he tell you all the horrible things they did? Did he tell you they were mercenaries?"

"I already know about that," Bulma snarled. "They were forced to do what they did."

"You _think_ you know about it," Chi-Chi corrected her, standing up to start again. "I know more about it than you do. Goku's told me about it. Raditz talks to him too. And did you know saiyans are telepathic? Yeah, Goku and Raditz have some sort of mental connection, and Goku's seen some of Raditz's memories. They're ugly, Bulma. You don't know the worst of it."

"I know they killed people, what's worse than that?" Bulma took the offense this time, running forward and starting a flurry of punches and kicks that kept Chi-Chi on her toes trying to block, dodge, or counter them all. Her indignation was fueling her fighting, making her want to pummel Chi-Chi for claiming to know more about the saiyans than she did. She lived with the three of them! She knew more about them than Chi-Chi ever would, and she would understand them better too. They weren't monsters. She refused to believe they were.

"Do you know," Chi-Chi shouted, catching a punch and deflecting another jab at her ribs, "how _many _people they killed? They destroyed entire civilizations! They decimated whole planets! That's _billions _of people, Bulma!"

Bulma paused just long enough for Chi-Chi to kick her in the gut with her knee. Breathless, Bulma collapsed to her knees and held her stomach with both hands. "I – I knew that, Chi-Chi."

"Did you?" Chi-Chi wiped her brow. "Or did you refuse to believe it? You think they couldn't do something like that."

"I know what they did and I know they _had _to do it or be killed." Bulma slowly rose to her feet and spun into a roundhouse kick that caught Chi-Chi off guard. "You don't have to remind me of it."

Chi-Chi yelped and covered her side with her hands. She was sure she heard one of her ribs crack with that blow. "Kami, Bulma, take it easy!"

"Sorry." Bulma turned away from Chi-Chi, trying to rein in her anger.

"I just think you have a right to know what kind of people you're housing," Chi-Chi ground out through clenched teeth. She was seeing stars from the pain in her side. "They didn't just kill people they were ordered to kill. They blew up other planets for _fun_."

Slowly shaking her head, Bulma turned around again, unable to form words to refute the other woman's claim. It was outrageous. They weren't killers by choice, they weren't! Especially not Vegeta.

"They – they…" Chi-Chi stopped, coughing a few times. "Tortured their victims… they enjoyed it. They drew it out, just to hurt them more…" She collapsed to the ground.

Bulma rushed to her side and knelt down next to her. "Chi? Are you okay? Oh no, Chi, can you hear me?" The blue-haired woman looked around frantically, searching for Goku or Gohan, hell, even Piccolo or Raditz. They were all off somewhere else training. The gravity room wasn't in use. No one was around.

Giving up on her search for help, Bulma decided to get Chi-Chi into the house where she could examine her to see what was wrong. She worked her arms under Chi-Chi's back and legs and picked her up, glad that she had gained a lot of strength since starting her training with Nappa. She ran into the house and carried her friend to her room and gently laid her down on the bed before pulling off her top so she could see her chest. She cringed when she saw her side, already swollen and bruising. She hadn't meant to kick that hard; she just lost control of herself in her anger.

"Oh, Chi, I'm sorry," Bulma groaned, gently prodding the woman's ribs. She heard a sharp intake of breath and a hiss of pain. "I think you've got a fractured rib. Hold on, I'll go get you some painkillers."

She stood up and ran out of the bedroom to the bathroom and started rifling through the medicine cabinet above the sink. She found a bottle of painkillers and grabbed it before filling a cup with water and took it back to the bedroom and helped Chi-Chi sit up so she could take the pills.

"Kami, this hurts," Chi-Chi moaned.

"I know, Chi," Bulma said, stroking her dark hair back from her face. "I'm going to go find Goku and he can help me get you into my jet. You're going to need some x-rays, just to make sure nothing more serious is going on, okay? I'll be back in a minute."

Bulma ran out of the house and headed toward Goku's usual training grounds to find him and tell him what was going on. Long before she reached the area, she could hear the booms of colliding fists and felt the ground shaking under her feet. "Goku!" she screamed as she got closer, "Goku, I need your help!"

A few seconds later, Goku appeared in front of Bulma and caught her before she ran into him. "What's wrong, Bulma?"

She panted for a moment before taking a deep breath to tell him, "It's Chi-Chi, I accidentally kicked her too hard… I think her rib is broken. I need to take her to get an x-ray. Can you help me get her into my jet?"

"Chi-Chi's hurt?" Goku's expression went from concerned to shocked before he grabbed Bulma's wrist and took off at a dead sprint back to the house, dragging her behind him. Not a minute later they were back at the house with Bulma leading the way to the bedroom where Chi-Chi was resting on the bed, groaning in pain with each breath.

"Goku?" Chi-Chi smiled when she saw her husband as he knelt down next to the bed and stroked her cheek. "I'm fine, I just got a little banged up in our spar."

Goku nodded as he picked her up and followed Bulma outside where her jet was parked in the valley. After she opened the side door, Goku laid his wife down on the floor while Bulma got her a pillow to keep her more comfortable. "You'll be fine. Bulma will take care of you. Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, you stay here with Gohan," Chi-Chi said, squeezing his hand. "I'm not hurt that bad."

He nodded again, then kissed her forehead and jumped out of the jet. Bulma closed the door and walked around to the door to the pilot's seat. She paused before stepping up into the jet, frowning. "I'm so sorry, Goku," she said. "I didn't mean to hurt her."

"I know," he said. "People get hurt in spars, it's not your fault."

She forced a small smile before turning and climbing into the jet. She fired up the engines and waved to Goku before lifting off and headed northwest back to West City. She could take care of Chi-Chi in the infirmary at the compound.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" she asked hesitantly after a few minutes of silence broken only by Chi-Chi's wheezing and whimpers of pain.

"No, Goku was right. Injuries happen when you fight. I would like it if you wouldn't do it again, but I'm not mad at you for it." Chi-Chi sighed and stared up at the ceiling of the jet. "I know you were mad about what I told you about the saiyans."

"A little," Bulma admitted.

"You like to think they're not bad people, they were just forced to do evil things," Chi-Chi said quietly. She didn't say anything else for a few moments, then continued, "Whether it's their nature or it's because of their circumstances, they're not good people. They killed so many people…they tortured them. They – they raped women, Bulma. Then killed them."

"Chi-Chi, would you please stop?" Bulma snapped. Hurt or not, Chi-Chi didn't need to go digging up the past and throwing it in her face. Honestly, she hadn't known that much about what the saiyans did. She knew they killed people to sell planets, but they did it under Frieza's orders. She didn't want to think about the fact that maybe they didn't completely hate it, that they entertained themselves by killing people, torturing them, raping them, and whatever else they might have done. Such thoughts made her stomach turn.

"Afraid of the truth?"

"I'm not afraid," Bulma huffed. "How do you know this anyway? Goku told you?"

"Not exactly." Chi-Chi turned to the side, looking up at her blue-haired friend. "He would never tell me all the details, but I can figure them out from the way he avoids answering me when I ask."

Bulma shook her head. "If he didn't say it, it might not be true. Unless Vegeta admits doing it, then I won't believe it. I can't. He's not like that, Chi."

"If you say so."

They didn't speak for the rest of the flight to West City. Bulma shifted uncomfortably in her seat, not liking the silence, but also not wanting to continue their conversation about the supposed immorality of Vegeta and the other saiyans. How could she believe such lies? Vegeta was _not _a bad person, he wasn't a monster! Sure, he made some mistakes, and yes, he was forced to kill people to survive, but it wasn't by choice. None of it was by choice. He just wasn't like that. He wasn't. Still, as much as she tried to reassure herself, she couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling that, perhaps, Chi-Chi was right. There were secrets Vegeta was keeping from her, tales he would never willingly tell. Why? Because he was ashamed? To protect her? Or to protect himself because he knew she would have more trouble forgiving him if she knew the full extent of his past sins?

With the seeds of doubt planted, the only way she was ever going to find resolution was to confront Vegeta about these things. She knew he wouldn't lie to her, but she also didn't want to hear the truth if what Chi-Chi said was, in fact, true. Still brooding over her dilemma when she touched down at the Capsule Corporation compound, she called the infirmary to have some medics come with a gurney to get Chi-Chi taken inside to have x-rays and other necessary tests run. Bulma got out of the jet and walked around to open the door and sat next to Chi-Chi to wait for the medics.

"I'm going to have my doctors take care of you. Do you want me to stay with you?" she asked, wringing her hands in her lap.

Chi-Chi shook her head, though Bulma wasn't facing her. "No, I'll be fine. But you'd better visit me once everything's checked out, got it?"

Bulma smiled. "Sure, Chi." She looked up and saw the medics running over to the jet. "Well, they're here. I need to go talk to someone. I'll come see you in a few minutes."

She slid down until her feet touched the ground, then hesitated a moment, looking up at the sky. Gray clouds blocked out the sun, making her aware of the coldness of the early March afternoon. She rubbed her arms – covered in goosebumps – and glanced over at the gravity room. Her curiosity was gnawing at her thoughts, but she didn't know if she was ready for the answers he might give to her questions. 'So what if he did rape people and stuff? That won't change how I feel about him. I still love him. He's my brother, and he's allowed to mess up.' She tried to picture him, standing in the doorway of the gravity room scowling at her, hair damp with sweat, body glistening in the dim sunlight, arms with bulging biceps crossed over his finely sculpted chest. And then she imagined asking him 'How many people have you killed?' and hearing him answer, 'Billions.' She shuddered at the thought. Okay, maybe it wouldn't be as easy to accept as she liked to think. Still, she _had_ to know.

Taking a deep breath, she started her trek across the yard, the dead grass softly crunching under her feet with each step. She stopped when she reached the door, then clenched her hand into a fist and knocked on the metal door twice. When the sound of the gravity simulator powering down came, she felt her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for the door to open. Then, a second later, Vegeta appeared before her, looking exactly as she had imagined him. She swallowed and averted her eyes to look over his shoulder, not wanting to make eye contact with him. No, she definitely didn't want to look into those piercing black eyes and see the horrors she was about to ask about.

"What do you want, girl?" he growled.

She pushed an imaginary strand of hair behind her ear and cleared her throat before asking, "I wanted to ask you a couple questions."

"Can't this wait?" Vegeta quirked an eyebrow, wondering what could possibly be so important that she would interrupt his training for it. Judging by the way she was wiping the palms of her hands on her pants, her fluctuating ki, and rapid breathing, he could tell she was nervous about something. But what?

"No," she mumbled. "It's important."

Shrugging, he stepped aside, allowing entrance into the gravity room where it was warmer. Her nose wrinkled with the stale scent of blood and sweat and she took a step inside, then jumped when he slammed the door shut. Biting her lip, she went a few steps further into the room, pretending to scope it out, survey the damage, anything.

"What is so _important_ you had to interrupt my training to ask?" he asked, walking over to lean against the gravity console.

"It's about Frieza. Well, sort of…" she trailed off, taking another deep breath before continuing, "I wanted to know… he made you kill people, didn't he?"

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her expressionlessly. She came to ask him _that_? She already knew the answer to that question. "Yes, girl."

"How – how many?"

Sighing, he rubbed his forehead and braced his arms back against the console. She could see the tip of his tail flicking against his hip. "I don't know how many I killed," he told her. "I lost count on my first purge."

"Oh." She scratched the back of her neck, noticing it was damp with a cold sweat. "So what are we talking? Hundreds? Thousands?"

He snorted, shaking his head. "I know you're not that naïve, girl. We're talking billions. Tens of billions. Maybe hundreds."

Bulma swallowed, but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. "But you had to. Frieza ordered you to kill them. All of them. And – and you didn't do it all by yourself. Nappa and Raditz and the rest of Frieza's army helped, right?"

He looked over at her and frowned. She couldn't hold his dark gaze long before she averted her eyes again. "I was ordered to kill _most_ of them. I destroyed several planets for my own amusement or for practice. At least a few of them were inhabited by sentient species. I didn't care. And when I said billions, I was only talking the people I personally killed. If you include those Nappa and Raditz killed, it would be almost three times greater."

She stared at him in shock, all words lost every time she tried to think of a response. Wrapping her mind around that many deaths was impossible enough when she was detached from it, but when she was trying to think of how many people her _brother_ had killed… no, she couldn't do it. She shook her head furiously, refusing to believe it. "Even if you killed as many as you say," she said weakly, "Even if you killed them all, you did it fast? Mercifully?" She prayed to Kami that his answer would be yes, but when she saw his hesitation, she knew she wasn't going to like the answer he was about to give.

"Not all of them died fast." His tail uncoiled from his waist and slowly twitched, revealing his discomfort.

"Why not?"

"For many years I killed everyone swiftly, ending their misery before it could begin. I killed them the way I wanted to die. But then, after one of my missions, something changed. I didn't care about honor or mercy or anything, I just wanted…" He stopped, turning around so he wouldn't have to face her anymore. "I started dragging their deaths out, at least the stronger warriors."

Bulma backpedaled away from him until she slammed into the wall. "You – you tortured them?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes."

"Why?"

"Why not?" He sighed. "Are you finished asking me questions now, girl?"

"No, I have one more." Bulma felt bile rising in her throat even as she thought about her last question. She dreaded his answer, but she had to know. Swallowing back her revulsion, she asked, "Did you rape any women?"

The silence that ensued dragged on for many long, painful moments before she heard him release a deep breath. "Yes, girl. Thirty-two."

Bulma choked on a sob as she ran to the door and forced it open. The rush of cold air was a small relief as she felt her stomach twisting, ready to heave all its contents on the ground. She ran across the yard back to the compound and headed straight for her bedroom, locking the door behind her before she went over and collapsed on her bed. How could he have done such awful things if he didn't have to? Was he what she so desperately wanted to believe he wasn't? A monster? She tried to hold back the tears, but before long they were flowing freely as she sobbed until her chest ached. She thought she knew him. She thought he was a better man than that. It didn't matter how many he killed, how many he raped, how many he tortured. What hurt the most was the feeling of betrayal, her trust broken. He never said he _hadn't_ done those things, but she made herself believe he hadn't, and now, knowing the truth, she couldn't bear it.

Vegeta did not immediately resume training after Bulma left. Instead, he turned, staring at the open door, listening to her rapid footsteps growing more distant until he heard the back door of the compound slam shut. He sighed heavily, then trudged across the gravity room to close the door. Normally he didn't mind telling what he had done in the past, but with Bulma it was different. With her, it hurt to know that she was so disgusted by him, so revolted, so… so afraid. She was the last person he ever wanted to be afraid of him. The door closed, he went back over to the gravity console and turned the simulator on, cranking it up to the maximum: 450Gs. With his body weighed down, it was harder to think about the girl and all her questions, or even why she had suddenly become so interested in learning about his exploits as Frieza's slave.

He wasn't stupid enough to believe his revelations would have no effect on her opinion of him. Her reaction wasn't any more than he could expect; if anything, he was surprised it hadn't been worse. Still, that didn't mean she was going to have an easy time forgiving him for his past, assuming she ever did. Maybe she wouldn't be able to. Even compassion as deep as hers has limits, and he wasn't sure he hadn't exceeded that limit by telling her the truth about his past. The scent of her fear still lingered in the air, and as hard as he tried to ignore it, he couldn't get it out of his head. Afraid of him. Perhaps for the first time, she was genuinely afraid of him. He was disgusted with himself, but more than that, he regretted past choices because he was seeing them affect Bulma. He couldn't explain why that made him feel like his heart was dropping through his chest or why his stomach was tying in knots, but he knew it was because of her reaction, her feelings toward him.

It really came down to one simple fact: He couldn't live with himself if she hated him.

Thoughts of Bulma continued breaking his focus while he trained until finally he couldn't take it anymore. He slammed his fist down on the button to deactivate the gravity simulator and stood there, breathing heavily, trying to calm his mind. So she knew the truth now, what of it? What did it change? Why feel remorse now just because she knew? It didn't make sense. Groaning, he picked up his towel from the floor and wiped the sweat from his face before leaving the gravity room to find Nappa.

Sensing his ki, he quickly found the older saiyan inside, but as he followed the signal, he found himself in front of the door to Bulma's laboratory. More perplexing was that Bulma was also in the laboratory, but what would they be in there together for? They weren't exactly friends, at least not that he knew of. Scowling, he punched in the code to unlock the door and stormed inside.

"Nappa, what the hell are you doing in here?" he demanded as he descended the stairs. It wasn't until he reached the bottom that he looked around and saw Nappa standing next to Bulma, who was sitting at one of her workstations facing away from him. If that wasn't strange enough, Nappa had his hand on her shoulder, which was shaking.

"Vegeta!" Nappa pulled his hand away from her and took a step away from her.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" Vegeta repeated, his eyes shifting from his former bodyguard to his pack mate.

Nappa rubbed the back of his neck and walked over to his prince. "Nothing. I wasn't doing anything. I just came to talk to the girl about something."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Bulma, who had turned around to face him. He dropped his gaze to the floor. "Talk? What do you have to talk about? You should be training."

"Leave him alone," Bulma spat venomously. "Get out of my laboratory."

"_What_?"

"I said get out!"

More shocked than annoyed, Vegeta silently complied, gesturing for Nappa to come with him. The two saiyans left the laboratory, leaving Bulma alone as she requested. Once the door was closed behind them, Vegeta rounded on Nappa and pinned him against the wall, fist raised and ready to strike. "I know you didn't stop by for a nice little chat. Tell me what you were doing! Why were you touching her?"

Though it was a dangerous move on his part, Nappa started laughing, even as Vegeta banged his head back against the wall. "What's your deal, Vegeta? Don't tell me you're jealous I was with her."

"Jealous?" Vegeta scoffed, but his scowl didn't slip. "What would I be jealous about?"

"You don't want me talking to your female, do you?" Nappa laughed again and pushed his now stunned prince away. "You're mad that I can talk to her without pissing her off."

"Stop your babbling!" Vegeta clenched both hands into fists. "You're a fool."

"Then I guess you wouldn't mind if I _was _doing more than talking to her, would you?"

"Why you!" Vegeta snarled and again pinned Nappa against the wall, this time giving him a strong punch to the gut for good measure. "She is off limits to you!"

Nappa coughed a few times before continuing, "She's a real looker, isn't she? And no one else has claimed her. Why shouldn't I pursue her? Give me one good reason."

Vegeta's tail unwrapped from his waist and lashed behind him as a deep growl rose in his chest. He was made even more furious when, instead of cowering, Nappa smirked at him. "You can't have her because I – because she's my – because I said so!"

"Why do you say so?" Nappa lifted his chin defiantly. "You'll have to give me a better reason than that if you want to keep me away from her. Just admit it. You're jealous, Vegeta. You want her all to yourself."

"Don't be absurd! Why would I want that banshee?"

Nappa laughed again, further infuriating the prince. "Then you wouldn't mind learning that we've been spending a lot of time together, huh? Yeah, that's right, every day when you go grocery shopping with her mother, we've been training together. And we talk—"

He was cut off by a swift punch to his jaw and Vegeta's free hand wrapping around his throat and squeezing. "Damnit, Nappa! You will stay away from _my _woman!"

Realizing what he said, Vegeta released Nappa and backed away from him slowly, unsteadily. He raised his hands to his head, tangling his fingers in his thick hair, and shook his head, not wanting to believe what he said. Nappa was right; he _was _jealous, jealous because some part of him had already claimed her as his own. When the hell did that happen? He raised his eyes from the floor and cringed when he saw the other saiyan smiling triumphantly, arms crossed over his chest. This was his goal the whole time. He wanted him to realize his feelings for the girl… the woman he wanted to be his mate.

"If you tell anyone, especially her," he warned, a deep growl rising from his chest, "I will kill you."

Sighing, Nappa nodded his assent. Leave it to Vegeta to try hiding his feelings once he realized he had them. Getting them together was getting even more complicated, but he was determined to see it through. They may not realize it at the moment, but they needed each other. They were just too proud to see it.

_A/N: Yeah, there's definitely the start of a different kind of relationship between Bulma and Nappa than you're used to. Defeating an immortal Frieza will be complicated. I was complimented on deviantart? Cool. I know the B/Y breakup was emotionally dry, but I kind of intended it to be to show that it was a longtime coming and they knew it, so it wasn't surprising._

_Approximate power levels:  
>Vegeta: 4.5 million<br>Goku: 4 million  
>Raditz: 2 million<br>Gohan: 350,000  
>Piccolo: 200,000<br>Tien: 100,000  
>Nappa: 85,000<br>Krillin: 50,000  
>Yamcha: 45,000<em>

_Reason for Gohan and Piccolo's relatively low powers... Gohan hasn't been pushed as far as he would with Goku or Raditz training him because he's not getting beaten up as much. Piccolo's power is a lot lower than canon because he hasn't fused with Nail. Also, Krillin and Gohan haven't had their potential power unlocked (by Guru)._

_Another important matter... I'm going to be in yet another wedding on Saturday (August 6). I highly doubt I'll have internet in the faraway land of Michigan - 7-8 hour drive, blah! - so I won't be able to update. I won't get home until late Sunday, so I'll just wait until Monday (Aug. 8) to update again. Sorry to leave you at this cliffhanger of sorts._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	59. Avoidance

Avoidance

Over a month had passed since Bulma learned the truth about Vegeta's life and he realized he had a particular attraction to her, but it was weeks of constantly staying out of each other's paths. Even if Vegeta wanted to reconcile with her, explain the reasons behind his actions, and even if she was interested in hearing him out, neither of them were willing to make the first move. Like magnets of the same pole, they continued evading the other, and when they were forced to be in the same location at the same time, such as at meals, they belligerently avoided eye contact or snarled insults with previously unmatched venom. For them, it was a way of coping with their feelings, albeit an unhealthy coping mechanism. Bulma couldn't overcome her feelings of fear, disgust, and betrayal; Vegeta, on the other hand, was struggling with the realization that he not only tolerated her, but he actually _liked_ her while she hated him.

The tension between them was palpable, making it clear to everyone else in the household that they were not to be trifled with. Moods constantly sour, they were liable to snap at anyone over the smallest perceived slight or inadequacy, which further isolated them as the elder Briefs and older saiyans were careful to avoid both Vegeta and Bulma as if they had the plague. It was a miserable month at Capsule Corporation, and by the end of it, Bulma's parents and Nappa had had enough of it. Raditz, while not comfortable with the situation, was at least able to escape it for the majority of the day by going to train with Goku, so he didn't have to endure the wrath of either the prince or the heiress.

It was at the end of the torturous month on a Sunday afternoon when the Briefs and Nappa were sitting in the kitchen after lunch. Vegeta had gone back out to the gravity room to train, Bulma was at headquarters working on an 'urgent' project, and Raditz was at Goku's house. Dr. Brief sighed in the silence that followed their departure from the kitchen and rested his hands on the table. "What has gotten into those two? They've never acted like this before."

Nappa grunted, turning his gaze to the window over the sink where Mrs. Brief was washing dishes. "They don't know how to act around each other."

"What do you mean?"

Mrs. Brief turned around and leaned against the counter. "Do you know what's going on between them?"

Nodding, Nappa told them, "Bulma feels like she can't trust him after asking him about the sorts of things he did while working for Frieza. Vegeta doesn't want to admit he's hurt by her distrust because he –" He paused, considering what word to use, then decided on the simple human term "—because he loves her."

Normally Nappa wasn't one to break the prince's confidence, but in this case he thought it might help both him and Bulma. Her parents, he gathered, were supportive of a relationship budding between the two of them, so he hoped that by telling them the truth they might be able to devise a plan to get them together despite their differences. It took a few moments for his words to sink in before Mrs. Brief squealed excitedly and Dr. Brief cracked a small smile.

"He loves her?" Mrs. Brief asked. "Are you sure? Oh, this is just wonderful! I always knew they would be just perfect for each other. Oh my, but how are we going to get them together if they keep avoiding each other like this?"

Chuckling, Dr. Brief said, "Dear, I don't think they need us to give them a push. They'll figure it out on their own soon enough."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Mrs. Brief hurried over to the kitchen table and sat down next to Nappa, resting her hand on his forearm. "Now tell me, how long has he been in love?"

Nappa, somewhat taken aback by her enthusiasm, replied dumbly, "Long enough."

"Of course long enough!" Mrs. Brief nodded to herself. "Does Bulma love him too? She should! She's got the best kind of husband material right in front of her. She'll get over this little episode and then I'm sure she'll be all over him. We just need to help her get over her feelings about what he did so long ago."

While she prattled on about romantic get-togethers, horse-drawn carriages, moonlit weddings, and adorable grandbabies, Nappa and Dr. Brief exchanged a glance, shrugging. Though Nappa had finally managed to force Vegeta into admitting he was interested in Bulma as a mate, he still didn't consider himself any sort of matchmaker and had little desire to try playing the part to bring them together, especially when they were having a problem rooted from Vegeta's past on both accounts. He could imagine it would be hard for her to forgive Vegeta for his transgressions, and Vegeta was still convinced that remaining a loner was the best route for his life. While Nappa didn't want his prince to have any weaknesses when Frieza arrived, he did believe that overall Vegeta's life would be much improved if he took Bulma as his mate.

After listening a few more minutes to Mrs. Brief's senseless babbling, Nappa stood and excused himself to go train in the back yard. He _did_ want to see Vegeta and Bulma reconcile, but he didn't know how to coerce them into it. His mind was clearest while he was training, so he figured the best way to come up with a plan would be to spend the afternoon training alone instead of with Bulma as he usually did. Besides, she probably wasn't coming back to the compound until dinner, so he didn't need to worry about that.

As he sank into his fighting stance to begin his kata, he wondered which problem was worse: Bulma's distrust or Vegeta's reluctance to face his feelings. Probably Bulma's distrust because even if he managed to get Vegeta to confess his feelings, she wouldn't be receptive to him. So, he needed to focus his energy on getting Bulma to forgive Vegeta, but he had no idea how to accomplish that goal. Forgiveness was not his strong point; hell, his whole life was nothing but holding a grudge against Frieza for what he did to his race. He hardly knew the meaning of forgiveness, so how could he expect to get someone else to forgive someone? It was much easier said than done, he concluded.

'Maybe if they're just stuck together long enough, they'll work it out to preserve their own sanity.' Snorting, Nappa started punching the air, fighting with an imaginary opponent with every ounce of strength his body possessed. 'Even if that would work, how could they be forced together? The only time they ever saw each other even before this started was at meals.'

Thoroughly stumped in trying to come up with a suitable course of action, Nappa started to wonder if, perhaps, the crazy blonde woman was actually the key to success here. The things she talked about sounded absurd, completely un-saiyan, but it might just work. Why not? Apparently it was common practice for humans to date when they were interested in each other as mates, so why couldn't Vegeta and Bulma go on a 'date' too? The problem was getting them to agree. The only way for such a plan to work would be through the use of deception, which wouldn't be easy considering both involved were extremely intelligent and capable of seeing through such ploys. No, he would have to come up with something better than that.

He was broken out of his thoughts when the back door opened and slapped shut behind Mrs. Brief. She pranced over to the door of the gravity room and knocked a few times before the simulator turned off and the door opened. They exchanged a few words before Vegeta disappeared inside again before coming out wearing a fresh shirt and wiping the sweat from his face and neck with a towel. He followed Mrs. Brief around the compound to the front. Apparently it was time for them to go grocery shopping.

Nappa shook his head after they disappeared. If anyone thought Vegeta trained too much before, now he practically lived in the gravity room. The only times he came out were for meals and shopping with Mrs. Brief. He had even taken to sleeping in there, assuming he slept at all. Obviously he was going out of his way to stay away from Bulma, who had likewise taken extreme measures to avoid Vegeta. Whereas she used to go to headquarters for business twice a week at the most, she had been there almost every single day since their dispute began. When she wasn't at headquarters, she was locked in her laboratory and almost never answered her door when someone knocked. Nappa was lucky to keep her training most afternoons.

He continued training for a few minute before a new idea suddenly struck him. A little sabotage never hurt anyone. Smirking to himself, he crossed the yard and sneaked into the gravity room once he was sure Vegeta was off the premises. Once inside, he immediately headed for the gravity console, ripping the cover off the control panel, and started crossing and disconnecting wires. Satisfied that the gravity console was no longer operable, he went back outside and resumed his training as if nothing happened.

It was a long wait before Vegeta got back from shopping with Mrs. Brief. When he did, he immediately headed off to the gravity room to train more before dinner. Having no idea that the console was tampered with, he engaged it at 450Gs, but nothing happened. At first he didn't think much of it, simply assuming that he hadn't activated it as he thought he had. Hitting the engage button again, he realized something was wrong when still nothing happened. He growled in irritation as he pulled the panel off to see if he could diagnose the problem. What he saw made him furious. The wires, though he never really took the time to learn where each went and what its function was, were obviously put in the wrong places because nothing looked like he remembered it. Someone must have messed with it, but he didn't know who or why. He forced the panel back in place and sniffed the air until he picked up the faint scent of another saiyan still in the air. Nappa. What the hell was that fool doing crossing wires in the gravity console?

He would confront Nappa about that later; at the moment, all he wanted was for the gravity simulator to run again. Thankfully, Dr. Brief was at the compound today working in his own laboratory, so Vegeta didn't have to resort to asking Bulma for help fixing the gravity console. The saiyan prince stormed out of the gravity room and headed back inside the compound to find Dr. Brief immediately. He went to the lab door that he hadn't been in very often since he was a boy and stopped to knock on the door. A few seconds later, he heard Dr. Brief calling for him to come in, so he opened the door and strode in, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Ah, it's you, Vegeta," Dr. Brief said, looking up from under the hood of a hovercar. "What can I do for you?"

Vegeta's tail started flicking, the tip thumping against his hip. "Someone messed with the gravity console. I need you to fix it."

Dr. Brief's mustache twitched before he disappeared under the hood again. For a few moments all Vegeta heard was the clanking of metal, but then Dr. Brief said, "I'm sorry, Vegeta, but since Bulma made so many upgrades I hardly know the ins and outs of that machine anymore. If it's really messed up you'll have to ask her for help. I might only further break it."

"That's ridiculous!" Vegeta growled and started pacing. "I won't have her fix it."

"Why not?" There was another loud clank and some muttering.

"Because," Vegeta ground out, "she won't do it. She hates me."

"Son, the day she starts hating you will be the day hell freezes over." Dr. Brief moved away from the car, wiping his hands on an already oily cloth. "As you know, she's at headquarters holed up her office, no doubt. As it so happens I need to have something delivered to her, so if you're going you may as well take it along with you."

"I'm not going," Vegeta reiterated stubbornly.

The old scientist sighed and tossed the cloth down on his desk before sitting down in his chair. "Well, that's too bad then. I don't know how else you intend to get your gravity room fixed."

Vegeta stopped at a workstation and rested his hand on it. "You can fix it."

"No, I'm sorry, but I don't believe I can." Dr. Brief turned to his computer and opened a window to read a document.

The saiyan's fingers dug into the metal surface. He was sure that the old man could fix it but was choosing not to simply to force him to have Bulma do it. For what reason he couldn't figure, but it didn't matter. There was no way to force Dr. Brief to fix his gravity room. "Fine," he said through a deep sigh, "What do you want me to take?"

"Just some documents," Dr. Brief answered as his printer started up. A few papers shot out, which he promptly grabbed and stuffed into a yellow envelope and sealed. He stood up and walked over to Vegeta, handing him the envelope. "Remember, these are confidential, so make sure no one else gets a hold of this."

"Hn." Vegeta accepted the envelope and, with one final sullen glance at the doctor, left the laboratory to go to Capsule Corporation headquarters. He went outside and blasted into the air, flying across the city fast enough that he didn't have time to change his mind. When he landed in front of the tall building, he stood on the sidewalk, looking up at the windows of the floor below the top. That was Bulma's office, his destination.

Vegeta stalked into the building and ignored the receptionist's greeting on his way to the elevators. He pushed the up button and waited a few seconds before one of the elevator doors opened with a ding. Hesitantly, he stepped onto the elevator and pushed the button to take him to Bulma's office suite, providing identification when prompted. The ride to her floor seemed to take years as the seconds ticked by; with each passing moment his heart rate increased and he could feel sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. What was this feeling? Anxiety? He shook his head, trying to clear his mind before the elevator gave another cheerful ding and the door slid open.

When he saw her sitting at her desk, head bowed as she scribbled notes on a pad of paper, he lost all confidence and pushed the button to take him back down to the main floor, but before the door could close again, she looked up and spotted him. He heard her quiet gasp and felt his stomach twist. There was no backing out now, not since she'd seen him. He refused to take the cowardly way out, to be seen so weak, especially by her. Holding the door open, he stepped off the elevator, and, clutching the envelope tightly in his hand, slowly walked across the office toward her desk.

"Vegeta," she said, feigning a calm demeanor, "What are you doing here?"

Once he reached the desk, he slapped the envelope down on it and turned to leave without an explanation. Forget the damn gravity room, he could train without it. Either Dr. Brief would fix it or it wouldn't get fixed at all. He started back toward the elevator when he heard Bulma quietly clearing her throat, obviously trying to gain his attention without seeming too obvious. He turned sideways, watching her from the corner of his eye.

"What is this, exactly?" she asked, her finger on the envelope.

He shrugged. "Documents your father wanted me to give you."

She nodded once, furrowing her brows. As she pulled the envelope across her desk to open, she asked him, "What's the real reason you came?"

Vegeta sighed, knowing he couldn't fool her into believing he came only to deliver the envelope. "I need you to fix the gravity room. Someone… broke it."

"Who, _you_?" Bulma rolled her eyes as she propped her feet up on the desk. "People don't just go in there and fool around. Anyway, have my dad do it. I'm too busy."

"He said he can't do it!" Vegeta snapped. "Can't or won't, but either way if you don't fix it then I am not going to be able to use it to train."

"Sucks to be you then. I'm not doing it."

"You foolish, insolent little—" He cut himself off, his hands balling into fists as a low growl erupted in his chest. This was precisely why he didn't demand she fix the gravity room in the first place. He already knew she would refuse and he knew he wouldn't do anything about it because he couldn't hurt her and threats never worked. Neither did name-calling for that matter. Rather than arguing, he headed back toward the elevator, his tail flicking behind him. "Fine then, let everyone die when Frieza comes. See if I care."

The elevator door slid open and he stepped onto it, pushing the close door button before Bulma could throw a retort at him that would ruin his exit. He leaned against the wall of the elevator and banged his head against it a few times. Why did he have to take an interest in someone so insufferable? So stubborn and stupid? It didn't matter why, what mattered was that he did, and it was going to be the death of him at this rate. She hated him and now she wouldn't fix the gravity room so he would never be strong enough to defeat Frieza, avenging his fallen race and defending her from the tyrant's grasp.

Once Vegeta was gone, Bulma sighed and dropped the papers her father sent on the desk. They were nothing but memos he could have sent in an email if they were all that important. Why he would send Vegeta with them, she didn't know. Regardless, Vegeta's last words kept running through her mind despite how hard she tried to shake it off. Denying Vegeta the gravity room was no way to settle her problems. Whether or not she liked him, he was still their best bet against the evil space tyrant, and if he needed his training equipment fixed, she was practically obligated to do it for the good of, well, everyone.

'Tonight,' she decided, 'I'll work on it tonight so he can leave me the hell alone. Kami knows I don't need him nagging me about it.' With a tired sigh she slid her feet off the desk and continued jotting notes for her next project, trying not to think of her surly visitor. It was getting harder not to think about him through the days she spent at headquarters. In all honesty, she missed being around him and she was craving a satisfying verbal spar with him. He was the only person willing and able to keep up with her intelligence and temperament, and denying herself his presence was practically unbearable after becoming so used to having him around. Besides, staying mad at someone was hard when that someone wasn't around to be a rude, arrogant jerk in need of serious attitude adjustment and social skills lessons. When she thought of him, she thought of the good times they had together instead of the times he was unfriendly or the things he said he did as Frieza's slave. Her resolve to distance herself from him was slipping, and that was why she was more determined than ever to stay away. Maybe she would forgive him eventually, but she wanted to stay upset with him as long as she could; after all, her spite was the least he deserved.

Bulma came home to the compound a few minutes before dinner started, doing her best to be around as little as possible so there were fewer chances to see a certain alien prince. She walked into the kitchen and saw Nappa and her parents already seated at the table, but Vegeta was missing. Not one to fret over his absence, she sat down and tried to strike up a conversation, but no one seemed particularly responsive.

A few minutes later, Vegeta came into the kitchen, receiving cheerful greetings from everyone but Bulma, and sat down next to her, though his chair was noticeably farther away than usual. Through dinner, there was little talking, but Bulma's parents and Nappa seemed to be eating with abnormal speed, finishing before either Vegeta or Bulma. Once Mrs. Brief saw that Nappa was finished, she stood up and carried his dishes to think sink.

"Nappa, would you be a dear and help me reach some things in the storage room? I've started the spring cleaning but I can't get to the boxes on the top shelf, and you're just the height I need." She grinned when the large saiyan grunted and stood up, following her out of the kitchen.

Another minute of silence passed before Dr. Brief folded up his newspaper and set it on the table, leaning back in his chair as he stretched. "My, it feels like it's getting late. I'd better go back to my lab and finish the car I'm working on before I fall asleep." With a dramatic yawn, he stood up and shuffled out of the kitchen, leaving Bulma and Vegeta alone.

They glanced at each other before scooting farther away, neither willing to leave before finishing dinner for the sake of escape. Vegeta didn't want to back down and show his discomfort around her, and Bulma didn't want to lose ground in her own home. And so, despite their mutual unease, they remained sitting at the table, picking at their food more than eating.

Bulma was somewhat irritated with the others for leaving. Their departures hadn't been exactly subtle – or believable. Obviously they were trying to force her to spend some time alone with Vegeta. Well, at least her parents were, though she had never seen Nappa actually do anything _for _her mother before. But then, she did know he thought more of the Briefs than he ever really let on since he finally figured out they only had Vegeta's best interest in mind and considered him a legitimate part of their family. Either way, she knew that there was a reason behind her being abandoned in the kitchen with Vegeta, the one person she didn't want to spend any time at all with. Ironic, considering just a few weeks ago she would have given almost anything for such an opportunity.

When she was finished eating, Bulma took her plate to the sink and turned around, leaning against the counter. Vegeta was almost done with his food, which meant he would be going back to training soon. Or at least, he would if he had somewhere to train. She had no doubt he would continue training even without the gravity room, but she had decided she would fix it for him and she intended to do so – for the good of the world, of course. She didn't care about helping _him_. In her opinion, he was a monster; perhaps he had been molded to behave like that, but that didn't mean he had to give in. She couldn't just forgive him for taking _pleasure _in killing so many innocent lives, among other things.

Sighing, she looked over at the flame-haired saiyan. "I'll fix the gravity room."

He looked up at her, somewhat surprised, and nodded before shoveling another bite of food in his mouth. While he was finishing his meal, Bulma left the kitchen and went out back to take a look at the gravity console to see what was wrong with it. Hopefully it would be a quick fix so she could get back to ignoring the prince. She groaned when she pulled the panel off the console and saw all the mixed up and disconnected wires. Even though she was the one who knew the inner workings of the gravity room better than anyone else, it was still going to take time rewiring everything. Without a doubt this was done on purpose; she didn't know who did it, but she didn't appreciate it in the least. For all she knew, it was one of Vegeta's tricks to get her to talk to him or something, though she wasn't inclined to believe he would stoop to something so ridiculous. If he wanted her to talk, he would be a little more confrontational about it.

With a clear lack of enthusiasm, she went back to the compound to get her toolbox from her laboratory so she could begin work on the console. She was leaving her lab when she ran into Vegeta, who was going down the hall on his way outside. With a sneer, she cut him off to go out the back door before him, saying pugnaciously, "It's not fixed yet, you know."

Rolling his eyes, he continued after her as she crossed the yard to the gravity room. "As if I thought you could fix it in ten minutes," he retorted.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

He opened the door and went inside ahead of her. "It means that, no matter how much of a _genius_ you are, it's going to take a while to fix."

"You want to bet?" she spat, sitting down in front of the console with her toolbox at her side. "I'll have it fixed in under an hour, just you watch."

Vegeta snorted as he sat down near her. "You're on."

"On? What? And what do you think you're doing? You can't train in here before I'm finished!" Bulma inched away from him and pulled out a pair of pliers from her toolbox, uncomfortable with his close proximity. She could feel the heat from his body and smell the faint scent of a thunderstorm, awakening memories of their 'training session' in the ballroom months ago. How could she hate this man? He wasn't so bad deep down, was he? Frowning, she dismissed those thoughts and focused on the task at hand.

"Your bet. I don't think you can finish in less than an hour. And I'm learning how to fix this damned thing so if that idiot Nappa tries to sabotage it again I can fix it without your assistance."

"Nappa?" She reached into the console and started untangling wires.

Vegeta nodded. "He's the one who did this. His scent was in here when I came back from shopping."

"Why would he want to break the gravity room?" Bulma asked. "He more than anyone else wants you to get stronger." Shaking her head, she pulled out a paper with all the notes on the console design so she could easily figure out which wire performed what function.

Other than a disinterested grunt, Vegeta didn't answer her question. He was as confused about Nappa's motive as she was. They didn't speak to each other as Bulma went about fixing the gravity console. He didn't know what to say to her, and he wasn't sure he wanted to say anything even if he did. Maybe it was because of his pride, but he didn't think he needed to justify himself in her eyes. What he did in the past was done, and if she wanted to hate him for those choices, poor as they may have been, that was her prerogative. To a degree, he regretted telling her the truth. If he had lied, would she have ever learned the truth? Possibly, and that was part of the reason he didn't lie, because he didn't want her to have more to hold against him.

Dismissing his thoughts, he watched as her hands deftly moved, sometimes peeking over to see her brow creased in concentration and her lips slightly downturned as she worked her way through the wires, carefully and accurately making the proper connections. He marveled at the speed at which she worked, but in a way he wished she would take her time. He'd never admit it, not to anyone but himself, but he was perfectly content to sit on the floor next to her, close enough to smell her sweet scent, to see her emotions play out in her subtle facial expressions, to hear each breath she took. The closer he was to her, the longer he was with her, the more he realized how attracted he really was, bordering obsession. He had to have her, but she wanted nothing to do with him. What was he supposed to do? Maybe the best way to go was to simply wait for her to come around. She couldn't hate him forever, could she?

Bulma put the last wire in place and smirked triumphantly. "There! I'm done." She checked her watch, then turned to Vegeta and stuck her tongue out. "And it was only 47 minutes. I win the bet. Unfortunately, we didn't bet anything."

"Hn." Vegeta stood up and stepped over to the console.

"Really, you don't have to thank me," Bulma said, her tone dripping with malicious sarcasm. She groaned as she stood up and picked up her toolbox. Without giving him another glance, she walked out of the gravity room, leaving him to train all night. She didn't care what he did as long as he would leave her alone now. Outside, it was dark and cold, making goosebumps rise on her arms. While working she hadn't noticed how warm it was in the gravity room...or how much the room smelled like the saiyan. Blood, sweat, and that wild aroma she caught whenever she was near him. And though she refused to dwell on it, she decided she rather liked that scent and missed it once she was out in the fresh air.

The blue-haired scientist was almost to the door of the compound when she saw movement from the corner of her eye. Setting down her toolbox on the back step, she walked around the building until she could see Nappa training in the yard, sweat pouring down his face and neck. She was always amazed by his quick movements, never able to understand how someone so large could be so swift. After watching for a couple minutes, she walked over to him and rested her hands on her hips.

"So, you had to help my mom reach some boxes, huh?"

Nappa came to a grinding halt in his kata and glanced over his shoulder at her. He shrugged, turning around, and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. "I was tall enough to reach them."

"Right." Bulma took a few steps closer to him, raising an eyebrow. "Why did you try to break the gravity console? Don't you know Vegeta could have been hurt if you did something to it?"

The saiyan's expression did not betray him, but she could see the tip of his tail starting to twitch agitatedly. "What are you talking about?"

She rolled her eyes. "Don't play dumb with me. Vegeta said he smelled your scent in there after the wires of the gravity console mysteriously crossed and disconnected. What were you trying to do?"

This time, she could see him frown a little before he turned away and resumed punching the air. "I would never do anything to hurt the prince."

"Okay, so if you weren't trying to hurt him, what _were_ you trying to do?" She walked around so he was facing her again, determined to get a straight answer out of him. "You can tell me, it's not like it'll make any difference if I know why you did it."

Nappa sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I did it so that you two would have to see each other for a few minutes. It's obvious the way you've been avoiding each other lately and it's making both of you hell to be around."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Now who's hiding things?"

Bulma huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Okay, so maybe I haven't wanted to be around him much lately. What's it to you? He doesn't want to be around me either."

"You're wrong about that," Nappa muttered.

"What do you mean?"

"He's avoiding you because you're avoiding him. He's respecting your decision to distance yourself from him. What you're too blind to see is that he cares about you and it's hurting him the way you're staying away from him." Nappa maintained eye contact with her for a while before turning away to continue his kata, considering the conversation over. If she couldn't take a hint, then there was no sense pushing further, at least not tonight. They had managed to stay together for an hour without getting into any sort of fight, so maybe there was hope for them yet.

Bulma stared at him for a minute before nodding slowly and turning to go inside. Maybe Nappa was right. Maybe she was being too hard on Vegeta. At the very least she could give him a chance to explain himself instead of writing him off as a monster without understanding why he had done such horrible things, or at least find out if he was sorry he did it. There had to be more to the story than he told her when he answered her questions. Even now, knowing the truth, she didn't honestly want to believe that Vegeta did what he did without some kind of good reason. And it was getting harder to hold a grudge against him; that was why she spent so much time away from the compound. She was afraid that if she was around him too much she would cave and forgive him. Why? Because she cared for him. Damn it all, no matter what he had done, she still cared for him and still wanted to believe he was a good person she could trust.

_A/N: This part might be reminiscent of _Rediscovering Honor_, but I like using Vegeta's past as a means for them to grow closer, build trust, etc. Bulma reacts strongly to his past because she never knew the details, and no matter how "typical" Vegeta's behavior was of a conquering soldier, it would still be a shock to her because she loves him. Mostly she's punishing Vegeta at this point while trying to convince herself he deserves her anger. And yeah, Nappa is pretty cool in my story, isn't he? :) And happy late birthday to iluvveggie._

_Done being in weddings this summer! And I only got a total of 13 hours of sleep over a three day period, none of which occurred during the first 32 hours...Either way, another roommate is_ successfully married off. _Now I just have to go to one more wedding next weekend. I'm stuck on writing chapter 66, which is not good considering I'm catching up pretty fast in my updates. So, hopefully I can get it done soon and move on..._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	60. Forgiveness

Forgiveness

By the time Bulma reached her bedroom her thoughts were racing. She wondered what Nappa meant about Vegeta caring about her. Did he mean that he cared about her as something other than a sister? Could he be feeling the same thing she was feeling for him, at least before she found out his secrets? It seemed unlikely. She didn't believe Vegeta was capable of having such feelings for another person. He prided himself on his lack of attachments and emotions and all that 'human sentimentality.' But maybe that was some sort of defense mechanism. Maybe he really did feel and just didn't want anyone to know about it. Didn't he say that Frieza would target anyone he cared about first? Of course he wouldn't admit being attracted to her if it would protect her.

'Don't be ridiculous,' she chided herself. 'He doesn't care about you like that, and even if he did it doesn't matter because I can't love a – a monster.' Sighing, she sat down on the edge of her bed and held her head in her hands. Everything was so much simpler before Chi-Chi had to go and bring up his past, making her question Vegeta to reveal the skeletons in his closet. Now that she knew as much as she did, could she stop there? She never gave him a chance to explain, to try and redeem himself in her eyes. Like a child she had been avoiding him, and like a man he had respected her desire to stay away. She felt so stupid it made her sick.

Knowing she was losing the battle to stay mad at him, she brushed her hair back from her face with her hands and stood up to go take a shower. She needed time to think. Sniffling a little as she pulled her clothes off, she thought back on the moment when she heard his last answer, trying to remember his reaction. But his back had been turned to her; she couldn't see his expression, couldn't see any remorse or anything.

'How can I forgive him? How can I trust a madman? A raging psychopath?' Bulma shook her head as she stepped into the warm spray of water, sighing as it washed away her worries along with the sweat and grease from working. Of course she could forgive him. He wasn't just some lunatic, a psychopathic killer, a stranger. Vegeta was… he was something special. Not just a brother, not anymore. So she could forgive him, on one condition: She needed to know he recognized what he did was wrong.

After toweling off and blow-drying her hair, Bulma put on a silk robe and went into her bedroom, ready for bed. She was tired and it was late enough that she wouldn't inevitably wake up in the middle of the night and be unable to return to sleep. She pulled a tank top and a pair of flannel shorts from her dresser and put them on, then turned off the light and slipped under the covers of her bed. For several minutes she lay there, staring up at the dark ceiling, watching the shadows looming over her. Tomorrow she would talk to Nappa and her parents about this. Forgiveness wasn't easy, and she was going to need some help before talking to Vegeta.

The next morning, Bulma sat at the kitchen table long after everyone dispersed; the saiyans left to train, Dr. Brief went to headquarters for some business, and Mrs. Brief was milling about the kitchen washing dishes and starting lunch. Bulma watched her mother for a while, occasionally sighing heavily, working up the courage to ask her opinion about Vegeta. She was afraid she already knew what her mother would say: that Vegeta was a wonderful, handsome, hard-working young man. Maybe she didn't know what he had done or what he was still capable of doing. Would that put a damper on her unrealistically positive view on the saiyan prince? The blue-haired woman had to know.

"Mom, what would you say if I told you Vegeta has killed, I don't know, a few hundred billion people?" Bulma asked casually, leaning her chair onto its back legs.

Mrs. Brief turned enough to catch a glimpse of her daughter before shrugging as she put a stack of bowls away. "I know he's done awful things, sweetie. That Freezer monster made him do it, so I don't blame him. It just upsets me that he had to endure it all." She frowned slightly before smiling again. "But that's all in the past now, isn't it?"

Bulma grunted. "I guess. I don't think he was ordered to kill everyone he did though. And that's not all he did. He tortured them, and he raped people, and –"

"And I don't want to hear about it," Mrs. Brief interjected smoothly. "Bulma, you can't hold it against him that he was taught to behave so…so barbarically. Really, sweetie, you know what he's like and you know that wasn't _him_."

It seemed true that a mother could overlook any wrongs done by her children. She hadn't borne Vegeta, but she may as well have the way she looked after him and cared for him. Bulma nodded slowly as she started to understand what her mother meant. That wasn't Vegeta. That was the twisted mind of an abused slave lashing out, trying to assert his power and dominance, digging his nails into the last scraps of control he had. At least, that's what she thought her mother meant, though she doubted there was quite the same level of thought about it going on under the pile of blonde curls. Mrs. Brief just _knew_ Vegeta wasn't a mindless killer. She could see that without having to delve into his psyche.

"You're right, Mom," she conceded, standing up and stretching her arms over her head. "Man, I feel like I haven't gotten enough sleep in days. Anyway, I need to go to headquarters again today. I think I'll only stay until lunch, so I'll see you in a couple hours."

"Alright dear, be careful driving over there."

"Yeah." Bulma left the kitchen and went upstairs to change into a business suit before going over to headquarters. Honestly, she didn't have much to do there since she'd been spending most of her days in the office for the past three weeks, but she wanted to talk to her father before she trained with Nappa that afternoon.

Twenty minutes later, Bulma walked into the headquarters building, nodding her greeting to the receptionist as she strode over to the elevator. She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the elevator door to open, eager to talk to her father about Vegeta. Finally, she heard the ding as the door opened, letting out a small troop of scientists wearing dirty lab coats. She gave a curt hello to them as she stepped onto the elevator and pushed the button to take her to Dr. Brief's office suite on the top floor, putting her finger in the scanner for identification before the elevator began its ascent.

She felt the lurch of the elevator as it came to a stop, then stepped off once the door opened. Spotting her father sitting at his desk, she walked over and pulled up a chair to sit across from him, folding her hands in her lap to keep from fidgeting too much. Talking about Vegeta still made her nervous because, more than she wanted to admit, she was afraid divulging his secrets would make her father change his mind about welcoming the arrogant saiyan into his home to live as a part of his family.

Dr. Brief finished typing a memo to all Capsule Corporation employees before turning to his daughter, scratching his cat behind the ears. "What can I do for you, Bulma?"

She averted her eyes, carefully studying the array of pens he had on his desk. "I wanted to talk about Vegeta…"

"What about him? Has he busted the gravity room again?" Dr. Brief pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and stuck one in his mouth.

Bulma pushed his lighter across the desk, shaking her head. "No, it's not that. It's just – did you know he killed billions of people, Dad? _Billions._ I don't know how I can overlook that as easily as Mom does."

Lighting his cigarette, Dr. Brief chuckled softly. "Your mother would hardly care if he blew up the entire solar system as long as he was okay. It doesn't surprise me that he's killed that many, to be honest, dear." He paused, remembering Vegeta as a boy, finding out he killed the men who tried to abduct his family. Initially he had been furious with him, which was the reason the boy left the compound for several weeks. If he was able – and willing – to kill men at such a young age, it was no wonder that he would kill more as he grew, though the number his daughter told him was staggering.

Bulma gaped at him for a moment. "Doesn't surprise you? How can you just brush it off like that?"

Dr. Brief leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. "Bulma, I'm not saying I approve of what he did, but I don't think it was entirely his fault. _You _were the one who first met him when he came to destroy Earth. You know more than anyone what he was like before we did the brain operation. Don't tell me you couldn't figure out something was wrong with his head, and I don't just mean missing his memories."

She shifted in her seat, biting her bottom lip. "That doesn't mean what he did was acceptable. It was still wrong, no matter why he did it, even if he was insane or whatever you're suggesting."

"No, I'm not saying it wasn't _wrong_." Dr. Brief pulled his cigarette from his mouth and exhaled a puff of acrid smoke. "Killing, I believe, was a way of life for him even before his first stay on Earth. I don't presume to know what he had to live through, but I know it was more horrible than I could imagine. Besides, that was then. Now, I don't think he would ever do such things again, aside from killing this Frieza person and his army."

Bulma wanted to make a biting remark about how no one could know if he would still kill remorselessly, but she hesitated. Truthfully, she agreed with her father, not believing Vegeta would ever do such horrible things again. "I'm afraid to trust him again. What if that wasn't the extent of the things he did? What if there's more, what if he tells me later and I don't know how to handle it? I don't _want_ to not trust him, but – but it hurt bad enough the first time…"

"I understand, dear." Dr. Brief moved Scratch from his shoulder to his lap and folded his hands behind his head. "I felt the same way when he was still a boy."

Instead of sitting still, the little black cat jumped onto the desk and padded over to Bulma, meowing for attention. She smiled and scratched its chin, luring it into her lap to pet. "What do you mean? What did he do as a kid that would make you feel like he betrayed you or something?"

"Suffice it to say I knew he killed people and that he thought it was not only acceptable, but expected." Dr. Brief sighed, stroking his mustache. "This was probably the hardest part for me to understand, but where he comes from, it's considered honorable to kill people who hurt loved ones, I suppose. You have to remember, dear, as much as he might look it, Vegeta is _not_ human and does not live by human ethics."

"Who would condone killing?"

Dr. Brief shrugged. "From what I understand the saiyans were a warrior race. Killing was basically in their genes. You would have to ask one of them to learn more about that. Now, dear, if you'll excuse me, I really must get back to work. We can talk later if you'd like."

"Sure, Dad." Bulma put Scratch on the desk and stood up to leave. "I'm going to be in my office until lunch if you need anything."

"Very good, sweetheart," Dr. Brief replied, distracted by his work as she walked across his office to the elevator.

The first thing Nappa noticed when he sat at the kitchen table for lunch was the lack of tension between Vegeta and Bulma; at least, there was significantly less than he had felt over the past few weeks. Just by looking at Vegeta he could sense an ease in his body, as his posture and movements were less rigid and his eyes were less focused on his food. Bulma, concomitantly, made more small talk with her mother and didn't grimace whenever her elbow bumped into Vegeta's as they ate.

When Bulma was finished eating, she carried her plate to the sink and went back to sit down at the table. After a minute, she turned to Nappa and told him, "I want to train this afternoon. After you're finished eating? I'll go change into different clothes." Taking his grunt as agreement, she left the kitchen and went upstairs to her bedroom to change into a t-shirt and a pair of running pants. Looking herself over in the mirror of her vanity, she pulled her long hair up into a ponytail before going downstairs and heading down the hall to go to the back yard to begin her stretches.

She was sitting on the ground with her legs spread wide, stretching her right leg when Nappa came outside. "Hey, Nappa," she greeted him amiably as she brought her legs together and jumped to her feet. "Ready to start? I want to work on ki training again. I'm going to master it if it's the last thing I do."

Nappa smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why the sudden interest in ki manipulation? You've been avoiding it the whole time I've been training you."

Bulma shrugged. "Yeah, well, I changed my mind. If I hope to stand a chance against Frieza's men, I better be able to fight on par with them, right?"

"Right. Well, then, let's see how much you can raise your ki then."

Concentrating, Bulma balled her hands into fists and started to steadily raise her ki, surprised when the air began to move around her, blowing the grass at her feet flat against the ground. For several minutes she fought to raise her ki until she could feel it running through her muscles, giving her a rush of invigorating energy. When she was sure she couldn't raise it further, she looked up at Nappa, hoping to see approval. She grinned when she saw his smirk turn into more of a lopsided smile and he gave her a single nod.

"Good. I would guess your power has at least doubled since we started training. Now, do you know how to form a ki ball?"

"Theoretically. I've never been able to do it without it fizzling out right away." Bulma held her hands out in front of her and stared at them as she focused on channeling her ki to her hands. Soon, she saw two orbs of glowing energy forming above her palms.

Nappa held his hands out as she was doing and quickly formed two balls of ki to show her. "Focus on _holding_ the energy." He watched as her energy dissipated, making her brow knit with frustration. "You're focusing on pushing it _out_, but you're not holding onto it, so of course you're going to lose it like that. You have to control it. It's your energy, it'll do what you want it to do as long as you're actively manipulating it."

Bulma glanced up at him and nodded with a small frown forming on her lips. "I'll try."

"Use one hand. It takes half the effort to form one, you know." Nappa dropped his left hand to his side, letting go of the energy he held in his palm. "This way you'll be better able to focus on pushing it out and holding it in."

"You make it seem so easy," she grumbled as she dropped her left hand to her side and again brought forth an orb of ki in her right hand. This time, it didn't disappear, but grew as she continued pouring energy into it. A minute later she felt sweat trickling down her temples as she worked to keep it in her hand instead of exploding outward.

He grunted and took a step back from her. "Saiyans are naturally gifted at using ki. It's something other races have to work at for years to become nearly as good at it."

"I don't have years." She sighed, releasing the ki. "What else are saiyans better at? Killing? You've said you were all warriors. Did that mean killing didn't mean anything to you?"

"Keep practicing holding your ki. It's the first step to using it as a weapon." Nappa circled around her as she again drew her energy out to her hand, watching it become physically manifest, its bright glow illuminating her face, reflecting in her deep blue eyes. "Saiyans were warriors, not killers. It wasn't until they drank from the cup of power offered them by mercenaries of another race that they started spilling blood for its own sake."

"But since you were naturally good fighters you were also naturally good killers. I guess that's why Frieza took an interest in the saiyans?" Bulma growled as she lost her ki again.

"You don't have to beat around the bush," Nappa told her. "I know you're actually curious about why Vegeta killed."

Bulma shrugged before lifting her left arm to try holding ki in that hand. "You got me. So why did he kill so many people even if he wasn't ordered to?"

"Honestly? I can't really explain it. He wasn't always like that. For many years he only killed those he was ordered to kill, and he did it quickly and, all things considered, mercifully." Nappa sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Then something snapped. I think it was when we were on a mission when he was about sixteen. Something in him changed. He didn't care anymore. I guess Frieza finally got to him. His mind was warped."

"Oh…" Bulma was silent for a while, focusing more on figuring out how to control her ki than her conversation about Vegeta. Finally, after losing her ki once more, she asked, "What did Frieza do to him to mess him up so bad anyway? When I knew him as a kid he was grumpy, but mostly normal from what I could tell."

Nappa bowed his head, frowning at the ground. "I'm not sure it's my place to tell you."

"You don't have to give me all the details."

"It would be easier to tell you what Frieza _didn't_ do to him."

"What?"

"Any bad thing you could imagine being done short of killing, Frieza's done to him, I can guarantee it. Kidnapping, starving, torturing, beating, humiliating…raping. You name it, he's done it. It's a miracle Vegeta didn't kill himself years ago. He'd never admit it, but I know he tried a few times." Nappa tilted his head back to look up at the blue sky, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. It was almost as painful for him to remember all that Frieza had done to his prince as it was for Vegeta. It was his job to protect him, to be his bodyguard, to keep him from harm at the lizard's hands. But through the years, he had been completely useless, too weak and slow to ever defend Vegeta from Frieza's wrath.

Bulma watched him silently for a few minutes, sensing his change in mood. Deciding not to press further, she again turned her attention to her training, determined to at least master holding onto her ki before the day was through. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Nappa exhaled slowly, releasing some of the tension from his body. "Don't tell him what I told you."

"I won't."

For the next hour, Nappa kept coaching Bulma on how to bring out her ki and hold it until finally, she was getting the hang of it, able to gather the energy faster and keep it in her hand for longer periods before it escaped. Nappa was actually rather impressed with her progress, but Bulma still wasn't satisfied by the time she called it quits. Through her training she had lost much of her energy and she felt absolutely exhausted. The simple thought of forming another ball of ki was enough to make her want to pass out.

Before she went inside to take a quick shower and return to work in her laboratory, Nappa told her that it was something she would need to practice every day. She groaned when he told her that, but she was encouraged by the fact that it would help her grow substantially stronger in a shorter amount of time and that once she mastered holding the energy, he would be able to teach her how to throw it, and, once she had that down, how to guide it. If she had that down before Frieza came, then he would start working on ki beams with her, which were definitely more difficult than throwing simple ki blasts at opponents.

She was heading to the stairs when she bumped into Vegeta on his way to the gravity room. "Sorry, Veggie," she mumbled as he brushed past her. She sighed when he only gave her a grunt in reply and continued on his way, never looking back. Anyone else might have thought he was angry with her, but since Nappa told her he was _hurt _by her avoidance, she understood his behavior to mean he was trying to give her space. Guilt weighed down on her as she went upstairs to shower.

When Vegeta stepped outside to go to the gravity room, he stopped when he saw Nappa starting his kata. "Nappa!"

The bald saiyan paused, looking over at his prince. "What?" Not immediately receiving an answer, he walked over to Vegeta, his tail wrapping more snugly around his waist.

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest, the tip of his tail thumping against his hip. "How the hell did the girl get that strong?"

Nappa smirked proudly. "I've been training her. You know that."

"Yes, but she was nowhere near that strong before today, and… never mind." Vegeta sighed, raking one hand through his hair. "If she's that strong, she needs to learn to suppress her ki, otherwise the scouters will lead Frieza's army right to her."

Nappa's smirk faltered, his face paling a little. He had nearly forgotten about that detail. After a few seconds, he nodded. "You're right, Vegeta. I'll make sure she learns how to suppress it. But you got to admit, she's getting pretty strong, huh?"

Vegeta shrugged, feigning indifference. "For a human female, yes. Get back to training." Ignoring Nappa's amused chuckling, he crossed the yard and locked himself in the gravity room for a few more hours of intense training. As he trained, he really wished he hadn't touched Bulma in the hall of the compound. As brief as their encounter had been, her scent clung to his shirt. In frustration, he tore it off and threw it to the side of the room, but even at that distance he could still smell it as if his senses were finely tuned to detect it no matter how faint. The constant distraction was infuriating, which only served to heighten his power and make it harder to control. It was a dangerous game training under high gravity when he could lose focus and end up severely injuring himself on accident.

Still, he pressed on, pushing himself harder as he tried to keep his mind on his training instead of the blue-haired female. He tried to remind himself that he was training _for _her, to get stronger so he could protect her from the lizard. He was doing it for his whole pack, yes, but mostly for her. The thought of her being imprisoned, tortured, and killed by Frieza was enough to make his blood boil with rage and sorrow. It tore him apart inside and it hadn't even happened. With blind fury he raced through his kata, throwing ki blasts powerful enough to shake the entire room. He _had_ to get stronger. He _had _to defeat Frieza. And if it was real, not just a foolish legend, he _had_ to ascend to super saiyan. If anyone could, it was him. He was the crown prince of Vegeta-sei! Generations of royal blood flowed through his veins. It was his birthright to be the strongest, to avenge his people. And it was his duty to protect his pack until his dying breath.

Even if Bulma couldn't forgive him, even if she hated him until her dying day, he would still give his life to protect her. Maybe she could never appreciate his sacrifice, maybe she would think it was justice for all the wrongs he had committed, and maybe it was, but he wouldn't let that deter him from putting his life on the line for her. Of course he would have preferred for her to forgive him unconditionally, but he knew that was unrealistic. Compassionate and understanding as she typically was, he never expected forgiveness from anyone for anything he had done. His past haunted him, the memories coming back every night when he slept or in flashbacks during his training or really any situation he found himself in. If he couldn't forgive himself, how could he ever expect anyone else to forgive him? It was all wishful thinking.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when he heard someone knocking on the door of the gravity room. Growling as he lowered himself to the floor, he felt the ki on the other side and felt something akin to fear when he realized it was none other than Bulma. What did she want? To check up on the gravity console to make sure it was working? To make some sort of upgrade to the simulator or the bots? He must have been standing there longer than he thought because she started pounding on the door again, more impatiently this time. Shaking his head, he went over to the console and turned off the simulator, waiting for it to finish powering down before going over to the door to let her inside.

As soon as he opened the door, Bulma stepped inside and self-consciously crossed her arms over her chest. All the while she was waiting for him to stop the simulator, she had been trying to think of something to say, but once she saw him, all words left her. It wasn't as if she could just barge in, interrupting his training, and ask him to say he was sorry for killing a few billion innocents.

His gaze met hers for a second before he averted his eyes. She looked over, noticing the door was still open. Normally he immediately closed it when she came in or left, but this time he stood there, holding it open, looking for all the world like he was preparing to flee. Her suspicions were confirmed when he stepped outside, pulling the door closed behind him.

"Vegeta!" She jumped over, holding the door open. It was strange being on the inside for once, trying to keep him from closing the door in her face. "Where are you going?"

He gestured toward the gravity console. "I'll leave you alone to do whatever you need to do," he mumbled. His tail dropped from his waist and twitched slowly as he turned away.

"What are you talking about?" Bulma opened the door wider. "Vegeta, I came to talk to you, not to work on your training equipment."

Vegeta paused, not turning, but she could see his shoulders tensing. "What?"

"Come back in here, please." She had to wait a while before he sighed and turned around to come back into the gravity room, this time closing the door behind him. He made a wide circle around her as he went over to lean against the console, arms crossed over his chest and tail wrapped firmly around his waist.

She wished she could get into his head, to know what he was thinking at that moment. More than anything he looked insecure, as if he were afraid to hear what she had to say. She bit her lip, again trying to find the right words. Mirroring his position, she crossed her arms over her chest again and leaned against the wall opposite him. "So, how has your training been going?"

His eyes rolled up to the ceiling. "Fine."

"That's good. No trouble with the console?" She didn't know why she was talking about his training. That wasn't what she came to ask him about and honestly she didn't care that much. The only thing on her mind was trying to find a reason to forgive him, to stop being mad at him, to trust him again.

"No."

"Big talker," she muttered. A few minutes of awkward silence passed. Bulma shuffled her feet and brushed imaginary strands of hair back from her face. Finally, she decided it would be best to cut to the chase. No more avoiding the issue at hand. She had to get it out of the way. Taking a deep breath, she asked him, "Are you sorry for what you did?"

Vegeta glanced at her briefly before looking off to the side, finding the wall of the gravity room incredibly interesting. His brows furrowed as he mulled over her question. Honestly, he didn't know that he _was_ sorry. Should he be? Probably, but that didn't change how he felt. Everything he did was an in-the-moment kind of thing. He lost himself in his bloodlust and lapses in reasoning, giving in to more primal urges, to the twisted ways his tormenter instilled in him since he was a small cub. Being sorry for the past, to feel remorse, regret, or guilt was strictly forbidden, if not by Frieza, then by himself. If he allowed himself to think on his past too much, it would steal his life away, make him crazier than he already was.

No, he wasn't sorry in the way Bulma hoped he was. That would be weak and foolish. He killed, either to survive or to prove himself a fearsome warrior others would avoid. In the end, wasn't it all the same? He killed to preserve his own life, meaningless as it was. In a way, it had actually been the cowardly thing to do. Following Frieza's orders, killing to scare off other soldiers or potential enemies before they could confront him. What honor was there in any of it? None.

Mistaking his pained expression as remorse, Bulma added, "I know you went through horrible things, Vegeta. I know you learned to do bad things—"

"Do not make excuses for me, girl," he growled. His tail started flicking more agitatedly. "For the most part, I was aware of what I was doing. I wasn't insane and I wasn't being mind-controlled. I killed people because I could and because it served my purposes. Everything I did was to reach my goals, to become strong enough to overpower Frieza's soldiers, and eventually overthrow him."

"Please don't say that," she breathed. This was all wrong. He was supposed to be sorry, he wasn't supposed to admit he did it without caring.

He forced himself to meet her gaze, dazzled for a moment by her stunning azure eyes. He cleared his throat, looking away again. "I never said I was proud of what I did, girl."

Bulma's breath hitched in her throat when she heard that. As far as she was concerned, that was his confession that he regretted his past actions. Since pride meant everything to him, for him to admit not being proud of anything he'd done meant he was ashamed of it, which, in her book, was the equivalent of feeling remorse. With tears of relief welling up in her eyes, she ran over to him and engulfed him in a tight embrace. Maybe it was because of his confession, maybe it was because she had already forgiven him in her heart, or maybe it was both, but she was overcome with a deeper feeling for him than she had ever had before.

"I knew you weren't a monster, Vegeta," she said, laughing through her tears.

"No," he murmured, wrapping his arms tightly around her slim waist, "Not anymore."

She sighed when she felt his warmth spreading over her body, enveloping her like a shield against anything that might ever come to harm her. In all her life she had never felt as happy and secure as she did in that moment, in the arms of a former killer, the prince of a dead warrior race, her adopted brother, the man she loved.

_A/N: Well, I'm glad we all agree I deserve my reviews :) Is my story getting boring? I admit I was lazy on some of these recent chapters because I was eager to get to the later stuff, which also explains some of the lack of quality. I know this isn't my best writing and I'll probably go back and revise it after I'm finished with it all. It does get better, I promise (and I'm trying not to be biased). Yeah, the whole showing/telling thing is a hang-up for me sometimes. I know telling's not so great, but I end up doing it anyway when I know what I want to happen but I'm struggling to make it happen. I might be dragging out this roadblock in their relationship, but I honestly thing it's important for them. I know there were a lot more points made in reviews that I could address, but I think the story answers a lot of them._

_Happy birthday to me! I'm 22...getting old... and you know I've only been writing fanfic for about a year?_

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	61. Spar

Spar

Mrs. Brief quietly watched her two children as they ate their lunch. She sighed happily, thinking to herself how wonderful it was to have love in the air. It was unmistakable the way they would steal short glances at each other, playfully nudge each other, steal food from each other's plates, tease each other relentlessly, and blush and avert their eyes when they accidentally made eye contact. Well, Vegeta didn't blush so much, but that wasn't the point. In Mrs. Brief's opinion, it was about time they started falling for each other. It only took them a year and a half to realize they were a perfect match. Still, it seemed the most they were doing was flirting, which also meant they hadn't moved anywhere in their relationship. Maybe they needed a gentle push in the right direction.

She already considered Vegeta to be a son, so giving him the official title of son-in-law was by no means a stretch. Nothing would make her happier than to see them together, hopefully giving her many beautiful grandbabies. They weren't getting any younger; if they hoped to have children they needed to get going soon. When Bulma stood up and took her plate to the sink, Mrs. Brief kept watching Vegeta, noting how his eyes followed her as she crossed the room. As soon as she left the kitchen to go back to her laboratory, Vegeta's gaze turned back to his plate, but his tail uncoiled from his waist and stretched out across Bulma's chair, the tip curling and beating against it contentedly.

The blonde woman giggled as she thought about how much nicer both of them looked when they came to the table now. Bulma had never really cared much about her appearance when she worked at home, but now she wore alluring clothes every day, often showing an almost obscene amount of cleavage or bare legs. Vegeta, on the other hand, never showed up to a meal covered in bleeding cuts and sweat anymore, always sure to have himself cleaned up. And, more often than not, he didn't enter the kitchen with a shirt. Did they really think they had to work so hard to gain attention? Vegeta was already enchanted by Bulma, and she was enraptured by him.

For weeks these little interactions had been going on between the two lovebirds, and still they didn't seem to realize their feelings were reciprocal. Mrs. Brief shook her head. She knew she wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, but even _she_ could see that they were attracted to each other. They were so similar they could either get along or go head-to-head with passionate fury, but they were also so different they complemented each other perfectly. If only they would open their eyes and see the obvious. Everyone else saw it, even her husband, one of the most oblivious men in the world when it came to recognizing the feelings of others, even his own family members. Every morning at breakfast he would quietly chuckle, raising his newspaper to hide his amusement as they flirted shamelessly. And the other saiyans, they seemed to go out of their way to make sure Bulma and Vegeta had plenty of time alone, obviously hoping that by being together they would realize their mutual feelings. So far, though, they hadn't.

When Vegeta finished his lunch, Mrs. Brief stood up and took his dirty dishes to the sink to wash later. "Are you ready to go to the store, honey?"

Vegeta nodded, standing up. "Hn."

"Okay, let me just grab my purse and we can go," she said as she pranced out of the kitchen. Vegeta followed closely behind her, waiting for her to get her purse from the hall closet, and went outside with her to the driveway where she threw her car capsule on the ground. Vegeta went around to the passenger side and got in, buckling his seatbelt while Mrs. Brief turned on the engine and started backing out of the driveway.

Mrs. Brief smiled as she started the daily drive to the grocery store. "Isn't that dress Bulma has on today just darling?"

Vegeta quirked an eyebrow. He didn't want to let on that he noticed it, but it was hard not to. Bulma's dress was bluer than sapphire, the color making her hair and eyes look even bluer than usual. The flowing skirt only went halfway down her thighs, and the front was a low V-neck, giving him a clear view of her ample cleavage. The back dipped even lower, down to the middle of her back. And the tight fit around her slender waist was rather appealing. He shrugged one shoulder and turned to look out the window. "Hn."

In the grocery store, Mrs. Brief headed for aisle five and started dumping groceries into the cart while Vegeta walked alongside her, reaching items on the top shelf when she needed them. He stopped with her when she paused, tapping her finger against her chin as she studied the many varieties of sports drinks. "Vegeta, dear, do you remember which one Bulma liked the best last week? I tried a few new ones and now I can't remember."

The saiyan reached over and grabbed a bottle of strawberry-kiwi flavored sports drink and handed it to Mrs. Brief. "This one."

"Oh, that's right." Mrs. Brief giggled quietly as she put a few more jars in the cart. "I'm so glad you remember what she likes."

Vegeta released his breath slowly, looking away from his surrogate mother. Of course he remembered what Bulma liked. He remembered everything about her, from the way she would chew her thumbnail when she was concentrating to the way her ki would fluctuate slightly when he passed her closely in the hall. He had her scent memorized and he could practically hear her laugh when he thought about it.

Of course Mrs. Brief knew her daughter's favorite flavor. As long as it had strawberry in it, it was sure to be Bulma's preference, but she wanted to see how much Vegeta had been paying attention, not only for her benefit, but hopefully to make him realize he knew Bulma quite well in case that was the reason he was hesitating in pushing their relationship further. Mrs. Brief didn't pester him too much more through their shopping trip aside from asking him to reach things for her when she couldn't get them. All the while she hummed to herself as she moved down aisles five and six of the grocery store.

"Vegeta, sweetie," she said as she pushed her cart across the parking lot to the car, "You seem awfully distracted today. Is there something bothering you?"

He shook his head, not wanting to tell her that the only thing on his mind was Bulma when it should have been training, figuring out ways to grow stronger faster. He was running out of time before Frieza would come and it was starting to make him anxious. But that anxiety was totally eclipsed by his interest and pursuit of the blue-haired girl. No, not a girl. He smirked to himself as he imagined her luscious curves, the sway of her hips as she sashayed through the compound, the way she looked at him shyly over her shoulder, the way her full lips pouted when he teased her.

'Such sentimental foolishness!' he reprimanded himself. Still, he didn't mind too much. If she had managed to gain his attention so fully, why _shouldn't_ his mind keep wandering back to her? Kami, he wanted her.

"You're sure you're okay?" Mrs. Brief asked once they were sitting in the car. "Your face looks flushed. You're not running a fever, are you?"

Vegeta shook his head again, mortified when he felt sweat dripping down his temple. He wiped it away and kept his eyes on the road ahead, willing his mind to take a turn away from Bulma into safer territory. The last thing he needed was his body giving away his thoughts. That would be far too humiliating.

…

Bulma ducked under Nappa's swinging fist and threw two small balls of ki at his chest. The small explosion that followed blasted her away, making her tumble across the ground a few yards before finally coming to a halt upside down. Groaning, she turned over onto her butt and pushed her hair out of her eyes. Of course Nappa wasn't even fazed by her attacks, but the clothes he was wearing weren't so tough. There was a smoldering hole in the front of his shirt. She smirked as she stood up, dusting herself off.

"How was that?"

"Better," her saiyan sensei told her, "But not good enough. If I'd been trying, I could have easily blocked that attack and it wouldn't have done any damage. You're going to have to be faster and more cunning to survive a fight against Frieza's soldiers."

The blue-haired fighter nodded, sighing quietly as she moved back into her fighting stance to try again. She had gotten even stronger since she finally mastered her ki, but it still wasn't enough. She was still weaker than the majority of the tyrant's army and she needed to be much stronger so her safety wouldn't be a worry and a distraction to Vegeta. Besides, she wouldn't mind taking a few of them out as her own revenge against Frieza for all the things he had done to the saiyan prince. Her power level was now around 750, but she wouldn't be happy until she at least reached 1000, assuming she could. Every day she pushed herself to her limit and beyond during her training session with Nappa, but she felt like her power was growing slowly compared to everyone else.

"Again."

Bulma nodded, then rushed forward and ducked under Nappa's fist, then rolled between his legs and jumped to her feet behind him, firing two ki blasts at his back. This time, she prepared herself for the shockwave and remained grounded, holding her arms in front of her face to protect her eyes.

"Better," Nappa grunted. He turned around, pulling off his shirt. It was mostly burned off anyway, so it made little difference. "Again."

They were still training when Vegeta and Mrs. Brief got home from shopping. After helping her bring the groceries inside, Vegeta headed out back to train more. By then he was accustomed to seeing Bulma training with Nappa since they made no effort to hide it anymore, but when he saw them together, he stopped in his tracks, watching for a minute. At first he was interested in seeing how much she had progressed in her training, but as he watched he felt a surge of jealousy coursing through him. Growling, he approached them, his tail bristled and lashing behind him.

Bulma looked over when she saw him coming and waved before ducking under another punch and striking Nappa in the gut with a quick ki blast. Training without being allowed to use punches and kicks was difficult and frustrating, but Nappa assured her it was the best way to force her to learn to use ki at close range. Anybody could throw a ki attack from a hundred yards, he said, but it took a great degree of skill to use ki attacks in the middle of hand-to-hand combat. She rolled out of the way of a retaliating kick and jumped high in the air, raining a short barrage of ki attacks down on the large saiyan.

Vegeta stopped a safe distance away, not yet sure if he wanted to interfere. Bulma was performing exceptionally well given her strength; in the end, curiosity won out over his anger as he watched her battling his old bodyguard. Nappa was holding back, obviously, but she was doing well against him. Her fighting skills only made her more attractive. It was fitting that the Prince of all Saiyans should have a mate capable of handling herself well in battle. He wanted someone strong, someone who could stand by his side as he fought. She would never be as strong as him, not even close, but she was becoming an exceptional fighter in her own right.

When they paused in their training for a short break, Vegeta walked over, strategically placing himself between Nappa and Bulma, turned so he could see both of them. He couldn't quite place what was bothering him so much about their training. Nappa wasn't interested in her as a mate, and as far as he knew, she had no attraction to the old saiyan. Why, then, did he want to separate them? He looked back and forth between them, finally concluding it was because of their attire. Nappa wasn't wearing a shirt and Bulma was wearing a tight-fitting tank top and very tight, very short shorts. He swallowed hard when his eyes moved over her long, shapely legs.

"Something the matter, 'Geta?" she asked after taking a long drink of water.

He stared at her a moment longer before answering, "No, nothing. Has Nappa taught you to suppress your ki yet?"

She shrugged and took another drink of water. Wiping her mouth, she replied, "We're working on it. It's basically the opposite of raising your ki, right? I'm getting better at it, but so far I can't push it below 125."

Vegeta nodded, not really concerned about the level she could push her ki down to. He felt it all the time; he couldn't make himself stop sensing her no matter how far away she was. So he already knew the progress she was making and knew that it wouldn't be long before she could push it down to a negligible level. "And don't call me that."

"What, 'Geta?" she asked, smirking as she saw the tip of his tail flick with irritation.

"Stupid woman."

Bulma gaped at him. "Did you call me _woman_?" She huffed indignantly as she put her water bottle down on the ground and brushed some stray hairs away from her face. "Well, anyway, I need to keep training, 'Geta. I'm getting a lot better at using my ki. Maybe I'll be able to kill some of Frieza's soldiers, you think?"

Vegeta raised an eyebrow slowly, wondering why she would want to _kill_ anyone. As far as he knew, she never entertained the idea of killing before, even if it was Frieza's army. Maybe she would beat them up, knock them out, but never kill. It was so unlike her to want blood on her hands. "I hope you won't have to," was his answer.

"Yeah, well, I'll do what I have to, right?" She gave him a half smile and turned to Nappa, who was waiting for them to finish talking so they could resume training. "You better get back to training too. I want you to beat that bastard."

Chuckling to himself, Vegeta turned and started walking over to the gravity room. "Don't worry, he'll die by my hand."

Bulma watched him until he disappeared inside the gravity room, not realizing Nappa was waiting for her to begin another spar. When she turned to face him again, she saw that he had a very knowing expression, but what he knew she didn't know. She frowned a little. "What?"

"You love him."

The blue-haired woman glanced over again when she heard the gravity simulator start up. Nervously, she rubbed the back of her neck as she faced Nappa once more. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He rolled his eyes as he sank into his fighting stance. "Don't you? Then explain why you're always working so hard to gain his attention, why you have this sudden spike in interest in learning to use ki, and why you can't take your eyes off him whenever he's around."

"Shut up, Nappa! What do you know about love anyway?" She wiped the sweat off her face, hoping she could take her blush away with it.

"You may think saiyans didn't know anything about this _love_ thing, but you're wrong." He jumped out of the way when she threw several ki blasts in close succession at him. He landed in a low crouch, ducking under more ki attacks. "They may not have called it love," he explained, leaping away from a rather large ki ball, "but they loved. And I can see that you love Vegeta."

Bulma growled with frustration when she couldn't hit her large moving target. "So, what difference does that make? Even if I do love him, he doesn't love me, so it doesn't matter."

Nappa batted a few orbs of ki away, running a circuit around the yard while she tried to hit him. "So what, you're just not going to tell him?" He was practically boiling over with frustration when she told him she didn't think Vegeta loved her. Of course he did, but damnit, he wasn't allowed to tell Bulma about Vegeta's true feelings! Nappa ducked under a particularly large ki blast and covered his head as flying debris cascaded over him.

"Why would I?" Bulma asked bitterly through her panting. "He'd laugh at me."

'You really are blind!' Nappa thought, smacking his forehead with the palm of his hand as he rose to his feet. Both of them were blind. Trying to rein in his exasperation and stop himself from telling the prince's secret, he changed the subject. "You're getting good at this. A lot of your attacks are peaking around 1000."

"Really?" Bulma completely forgot her irritation, thrilled that she had gotten so strong.

The bald saiyan nodded as he walked back over to her. "You've learned well to fight against me, but I think it would do you good to spar with someone else to test your skills."

"Like who?"

"I don't know," Nappa said, looking over at the gravity room. "Maybe someone smaller and quicker than me."

Bulma followed his gaze, her jaw going lax when she realized what he was implying. "Oh, no. No, no, no, no. There's no way I could spar with Vegeta. He would pulverize me!"

Nappa shrugged. "I don't think so. He's quite capable of holding back when he wants to."

"Look, I don't have a death wish. And even if I did, I don't want to look weak to him. He already thinks I am…" She trailed off, punctuating her fears with a sigh.

"I think he'd actually be impressed, though he might not say it." Nappa turned away from the gravity room and crossed his arms over his chest. "He knows where you started and your natural abilities. I think he would respect you more if you challenged him to a spar. But what do I know? I've only been his bodyguard his whole life."

Bulma playfully punched his arm as she walked past him to go inside. "Thanks for the tip, big guy. I'll think about it, but if I'm going to spar with him I think I need to rest first. Your training wore me out."

He grunted and moved into the starting position of his kata.

"Oh, and Nappa," she called over to him once she reached the door. "Don't tell him, okay?"

Muttering curses under his breath, Nappa nodded. These two were absolutely impossible. If they would stop worrying about rejection they might open their eyes to see their feelings were mutual. But now he was bound from both ends not to tell their feelings. With more gusto than usual, he threw himself into his training, hoping to work off some of his frustration.

'Would he even be willing to spar with me?' Bulma wondered as she went into her bathroom to take a quick shower. She stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower, sighing contentedly as the warm water erased the aches in her muscles and washed away the sweat and dirt clinging to her skin. 'Nappa wouldn't suggest it if he didn't think Vegeta would agree, would he?'

Figuring all that could happen was Vegeta killing her – or worse, laughing at her – she decided she would take a chance and challenge him to a spar after dinner. That matter settled in her mind, she got out of the shower and dried off, wrapping herself in her towel before going back to her bedroom. She sat on the edge of her bed, then lay down. 'A nap might be a good idea. I want to be at the top of my game tonight.' She crawled to the center of her bed and pulled her covers over her towel-clad body and soon drifted off to sleep.

Bulma was jolted awake when she heard loud pounding on the door of her bedroom. She sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, and looked at the clock on her nightstand. 6:23PM. There was another round of knocking on the door. "Woman! Wake the hell up!"

"Vegeta?" she squeaked. He must have taken that as an invitation in because he threw the door open and strode in. Bulma yanked her covers up over her chest, horrified that he would barge into her room like this. "What are you doing?"

"Your mother sent me to get you up for dinner. So get up." Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her, daring her to argue with him. He was hungry and wasn't going to be kept from eating because of her laziness.

"Oh, right." Bulma yawned and scooted to the edge of the bed. "Well, I'm up, so you can go downstairs now. I'll be down in a minute."

"No, you will come now." He took a step toward her menacingly, the threat to pick her up and carry her to the kitchen clear.

"Don't touch me!" she shouted. "Kami, I'm not dressed! I said I'll be down in a minute."

Vegeta froze as his more animalistic urges clawed at him from the inside, egging on his curiosity to pull her covers away and see if what she said was true. Quickly regaining control of himself, he turned away and left her room. "One minute or I'm going to drag you down there."

Bulma sighed with relief when she heard her door slam shut. That was a close one. Good thing it was dark in her room or he would have seen the blush that was burning across her face. "How embarrassing would that have been?" she muttered as she got out of bed and grabbed panties, a sports bra, a pair of shorts, and a tank top out of her dresser. She dressed fast and ran out of her room to go down to eat, not wanting Vegeta to have to carry her like a child again.

"Sorry," she said as soon as she burst into the kitchen. "I definitely didn't mean to take a nap that long."

"That's all right, dear," Mrs. Brief said as she started serving the food. "We know you've been needing to catch up on sleep."

"Yeah." Bulma sank into her seat and smacked Vegeta's arm. "And don't ever come into my room unless I say you can."

Vegeta smirked devilishly. "I'm pretty sure 'Vegeta' means 'come in.'"

"Wrong." She stuck her tongue out at him and yelped, nearly falling out of her chair when he snapped his teeth at her.

"Jerk."

"Brat." The saiyan prince snickered when she pouted. Really all she was doing was making him want to bite her lip, but he dismissed that thought and instead focused on his meal.

Though she was very hungry, Bulma limited herself to a light dinner, not wanting to get cramps when she went to spar with Vegeta. She finished a long time before him, but stayed sitting for a while chatting with her parents. The longer she waited the more nervous she became. Afraid he could smell it on her, or maybe hear her fast heartbeat, Bulma excused herself and went to her laboratory to work for a while. As she sat at her computer playing solitaire, she had to keep wiping the palms of her hands on her shorts to dry them. She didn't want to see desperate for his attention, so she would wait a while before going to ask him to spar. Soon she found herself checking the clock every few minutes until finally it was 8:00PM. Surely enough time had passed that he would have been training for a while.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Bulma shut down her computer and rose from her chair, ready to go challenge the saiyan prince. Practically running up the stairs out of her lab, she headed to the gravity room. The fear of rejection was no longer there, just the intense excitement of getting to test her skills against Vegeta, to prove to him that she wasn't weak, that she was worthy of his affections. Outside, she saw Nappa doing some light training with Raditz, but she didn't pay them much mind as she hurried over to the gravity room and started pounding on the door with both fists.

Each second that passed before the door opened felt like an eternity to her. She was sure she was going to go into cardiac arrest or have a stroke as she waited, straining her ears to hear what was going on inside. Finally, the gravity simulator powered down and a short while later the door opened. Vegeta stood there with a towel draped over his shoulders, arms crossed over his broad chest, and scowl on his face.

Vegeta looked her up and down a few times before asking, "What do you want?"

Bulma grinned sheepishly and clenched her hands into fists at her sides. "I – I came to challenge you to a spar, 'Geta."

His expression betrayed no emotions until his eyebrow slowly rose. "Why would you want to spar with me, woman? I could kill you."

"I know that," she said, "But I know you won't. You can hold back. C'mon, afraid you can't take me? Nappa said I should try sparring other people. You know, to sharpen my skills. So, I'm asking you to spar with me."

Vegeta's scowl turned to Nappa, who had paused in his training to watch the exchange between him and Bulma. _"Why the hell would you tell her to spar with me?"_

He could hear Nappa's laugh from across the yard. _"Suppress your power. She'll surprise you, I promise. She's tough."_

_ "You're an ass."_

_ "Maybe, but you aren't going to back down from a fight with a _girl_, are you?"_

_ "I hate you." _Vegeta closed off the mental link, hesitating as he tried to decide if he should spar with Bulma or not. He didn't want to back out of a challenge, but he was afraid of hurting her. What if he lost control? He frowned as he stepped aside, allowing her entrance.

"Don't worry," she teased. "If you accidentally kill me you can wish me back with the dragon balls."

"You're forgetting one thing," he quipped, "I plan to use the dragon balls as soon as they're recharged so I can kill Frieza."

She was unfazed. "Yeah, as if you'll need them. You'll be strong enough without any stupid wish." Turning away from him, she started stretching.

He decided not to answer that, preferring not to tell her he was afraid he would never be strong enough to defeat the lizard. He closed the door to the gravity room and walked to the center, waiting for her to finish her warm-up.

"Damn it's hot in here," Bulma said, fanning her face with her hand. "Don't you ever use the air conditioner?"

Vegeta shrugged. "I work best in high temperatures. Saiyans are a desert species."

"Well, it's definitely not working for me." Bulma sighed, then smirked mischievously as she pulled her shirt off, throwing it to the side of the room.

"What the hell are you doing?" he choked out.

"Evening the playing field."

The saiyan was pretty sure that counted as an unfair distraction, but he didn't tell her so. He forced himself to keep his gaze above her shoulders and lowered himself into his fighting stance to begin, pushing his ki down to her level. "Ready, woman?"

"You bet." Bulma spread her legs and raised her arms defensively, ready to begin their spar. She jumped back, crossing her arms over her chest when Vegeta suddenly appeared in front of her, aiming a punch at her chest. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she blocked a fist heading for her gut and caught the other aimed at her face.

"Not bad," he taunted as he pulled his hand free. A second later, he disappeared.

Bulma was about to make a snide retort, then screeched when a ki blast came hurtling toward her from the ceiling. "Not fair! I can't fly!"

"You'll have to learn how to fight someone who can," he responded, his voice seeming to come from everywhere at once.

The blue-haired fighter turned in circles, trying to catch a glimpse of her saiyan opponent, but he was nowhere to be seen. How ridiculous, the room wasn't that large and there weren't many places for him to hide. He had to be moving around so fast she couldn't see him. How, then, was she supposed to catch him? When she felt the air move behind her, she whirled around and struck at Vegeta, who had finally appeared. But he caught her fist and jabbed her between her ribs.

Not letting that discourage her, Bulma kicked at him with her left leg, irritated when he blocked with his right knee. Immediately she dropped to the floor and swept his left leg, flooring him. As soon as he started falling she shot a small ki blast at his chest and jumped over him, kicking at his head before he could recover. But her foot moved through an afterimage, making her nearly lose her balance.

She flew forward when Vegeta kicked her back, making her cry out in pain before her body slammed against the wall. Turning around, she searched the room for her opponent, but he was gone again. Growling, she cautiously moved out to the middle of the room, ducking when she felt the air moving near her head. She barely missing being hit by a right hook. Before he could retract his arm, Bulma caught it and twisted it, trying to force him into submission.

"How's that, 'Geta?" she snarled, wrenching his arm to the side.

He growled a little, then kicked her leg, making her lose her grip enough for him to break free from her hold. Bulma quickly recovered, swinging her body around in a roundhouse kick that he jumped over. While still in the air, he kicked her shoulder, numbing her arm. She screamed as she staggered away from him, shaking feeling back into her arm. Nearly blinded by anger, Bulma ran forward and started punching Vegeta with every bit of strength and speed she had in her body. He was infuriatingly fast, easily dodging every one of her blows until finally he let one hit. While he was unfazed, she jumped back, hissing in pain as a tingling sensation exploded through her hand.

Ignoring her pain, she started gathering ki in both hands, then threw it at the prince, chasing him around the room until she was surrounded by explosions. Panting, she hardly had the energy it took to raise her arm to block a punch from Vegeta, but somehow she managed. She struck back with her left leg, jabbing her knee into his gut, then crashed her fists down on his back when he doubled over. When he landed on the floor, she kicked his ribs as hard as she could, sending him rolling across the room.

While she waited for him to get back up, she sank into her defensive stance, glaring at him as she tried to regain her breath. She groaned when he stood up, wiping a bit of saliva from the corner of his mouth, and gave her that cocky smirk she both loved and hated. He cracked his neck from side to side before resuming his starting position. "Not bad, woman, but you'll have to do better than that if you want to beat me."

Not letting him get the first move in this time, Bulma rushed forward, feinting a right hook and catching him with a kick to the ribs from her left leg. As soon as her leg connected with his solid body, she pulled her leg back and jumped high above him, forming a powerful orb of ki in her hands to throw down on him. But by the time the ki left her hands, he had moved behind her and smacked her to the floor.

She rolled over and sat up, looking around for the saiyan. Then, suddenly, he was in front of her. When she extended her hands in front of her to blast him away with ki, he gripped her wrists, effectively cutting off the flow of her ki with his own. "You lose, woman."

Trying to pull her hands free, she growled, "You haven't won yet, Vegeta."

Before she knew what he was doing he had her pinned down on the floor, her hands held above her head and his legs straddling her waist, making it impossible to use her legs against him. "Vegeta? What are you doing?"

He bent forward, sniffing her hair. "Concede."

"What? You want me to give up? No way!" Bulma struggled under him, but she couldn't break free. She couldn't even make him budge an inch. He was too heavy, too strong.

He chuckled, moving his left hand to her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb. The fury in her eyes was almost too much for him to handle; he was losing control of himself, and having her in such a compromising position was not helping him keep a clear head. "I'll hold you here until you say the word."

Bulma's eyes flickered from his hand to his eyes. The longer she looked at them, the more she felt as if she was falling into a deep black abyss, free-falling into a bottomless pit. It terrified her, but at the same time it fascinated her. Her breath hitched in her throat when he moved even closer. She could feel his breath fanning lightly against her face. Unconsciously she drew her tongue across her lips. "Vegeta…"

"What, woman?"

"I…" She swallowed, hardly able to make her voice work. But what did she need her voice for? He was so close. Closing her eyes, she lifted her head, pressing her lips against his. She gasped when he responded in kind, viciously attacking her lips with his own, drawing her bottom lip into his mouth, sinking his teeth into it. She moaned when she tasted her own coppery blood, parting her lips to allow his tongue entrance. He tangled his free hand in her hair, pulling it free from its ponytail. With fevered passion he kissed her, bruising her lips with his forcefulness, chewing her soft lips until they were swollen. Bulma sighed as he pushed his tongue into her mouth, gliding over her teeth, tasting her sweetness.

"Please…Vegeta," she panted, turning her head to the side to break the kiss. He paused, waiting for her to go on, begging her in his mind not to push him away. She took a few deep breaths, then turned back to him. "I concede. Fuck yes, I concede."

Vegeta smirked as he released her hands, then crushed his lips against hers again. He hardly noticed as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. All he knew was her taste, the feel of her lips, the elation of finally claiming her. Both hands free now, he moved back, never breaking their kiss, and pulled her to sit up.

Bulma shifted so she was kneeling, leaning against him for support. Feeling her body pressed against his chest was almost more than he could stand. He needed to feel more of her. Roughly his hands moved over her body, gripping her hips, then sliding up her sides, cupping her supple breasts. She mewled as he touched her, growing more aroused by the second until she was burning with desire. She had no idea that Vegeta could smell her arousal, that it was intoxicating him, making him lose himself to instinct.

Somehow, Vegeta managed to pull himself away. Bulma looked at him through half-lidded eyes as if in a daze, wondering if it was just her imagination when his eyes appeared even darker than before, his pupils dilated. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"Oh," she breathed, "Does this mean you love me then?"

Vegeta pulled her closer, wrapping his tail possessively around her thigh. He kissed and nipped along her jaw and down her neck. "I want you as my mate."

"Mate? What does that mean? Like a girlfriend?"

"No, you foolish woman," he purred. "I mean for life."

"Oh, I see." Bulma shrugged and kissed his cheek. "Sure, why not?"

He chuckled as he gently bit her lips, initiating another mind-blowing kiss. He was amused at how lightly she took it and how quickly she agreed. She really had no idea what she was getting herself into, but he was willing to let her discover that as time went by. She belonged to him now, and he was never going to let her go. His purr intensified when she wrapped her legs around his waist. Yes, he thought as he lay down on top of her, further deepening their kiss, he had chosen the best mate the universe could offer. For once, fate was on his side.

_A/N: I know Raditz hasn't been seen much in recent chapters, but he's not really doing anything other than training, so there's not much to say about him. He'll be back more when the action starts. And that'll be starting soon, really. I finally finished chapter 66 but it's in need of serious revision before I can go on to 67. Hoping this doesn't take too long... I really like having more chapters written ahead of my updating than this. I know I updated a few hours later than usual, but sleep schedule's been off this week. Whereas I was going to bed between 7 and 8 in the morning, I now can't stay awake later than 9PM. Two days ago I went to bed at 7:30... What the heck? Anyway, this has nothing to do with my story or writing, but I may have convinced my parents to get me a bulldog for my graduation/birthday present and I'm going to see the puppy today. So, wish me luck! Ha :D_

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	62. Lockdown

Lockdown

Bulma woke up drenched in sweat, yawning as she sat up in bed. As had happened so many other times, Vegeta stayed with her through the night, but he was up by the crack of dawn to go train before breakfast, leaving her to wake up alone. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stretched, several joints popping and cracking with the movement. Not once had Vegeta gone farther than intense make-out sessions and touching, but every time she woke up after such a night she felt as if she may as well have had sex a dozen times over. She really had no idea how he showed such restraint when he obviously wanted more, but she learned early that he had control in the relationship. More than once she told him he could take it to the next step, but every time he told her she wasn't ready yet. She still had no idea what he meant by that. It was a new experience for her, not being able to wrap him around her finger as she had done with Yamcha. But, in a way, she liked that she wasn't the dominant one. If anything, it made it more enjoyable when he held her in his arms at night, knowing that he was there to protect and care for her.

Slowly, Bulma stood up and shuffled to her bathroom, peeling off her shorts and tank top as she went. Today she had to go in to headquarters, which she really wasn't excited about, but at least it would get her out of the compound for a while. Since she finally hooked up with Vegeta, she hadn't been willing to leave very often, and definitely not for extended periods. It wasn't that Vegeta took more time off training, but she wanted to be around to see him whenever he might take a short break for a drink or a snack or to see her – if only for a few minutes.

She stepped into the shower, enjoying it as it cooled her heated flesh. If it wasn't bad enough that Vegeta didn't like the air conditioning being on in the middle of July, his body was like a burning furnace in bed with her. She showered quickly and dried off, knowing that if she was late for breakfast Vegeta would hunt her down and drag her to the kitchen to eat. Wrapping her towel around her, she hurried over to her dresser and picked out a bra and panties, then carried them to her closet to find a suit to wear to work. A few minutes later she emerged wearing a matching gray skirt and jacket with a white blouse. Drab, but professional. She stopped at her vanity on the way out of her room, primping her hair, and picked up a pair of black heels before running downstairs for breakfast.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs she nearly collided into Vegeta as he was heading to the kitchen from his early morning training. But he caught her, spinning her around to pin her against the wall. "You should watch where you're going, woman."

"Oh yeah? And what if I don't?" With her arms pinned at her sides, she could only move her legs, so she wrapped her right leg around Vegeta's waist and pulled him closer, her skirt inching up her leg.

He leaned closer until his lips brushed against hers as he spoke. "Then I will not reward your lewd behavior."

She smirked. "As if you could resist this." Grinding her hips against him, she captured his lip between her teeth.

"You underestimate me, woman." He pressed closer until she could feel the stirrings of his arousal, then abruptly moved away from her, continuing on to the kitchen to get breakfast. Bulma sighed, straightening her skirt before following after him. Seducing the saiyan prince wasn't easy.

When Bulma was finished eating, she stood up and kissed Vegeta's cheek, earning a soft growl. She knew he didn't like any affection being shown in front of others, but she thought his reaction was cute so she did it anyway. "I'm going to headquarters. Not sure when I'll be home this afternoon."

"Okay, sweetie," Mrs. Brief chirped.

Bulma walked out of the kitchen, grabbing her briefcase from the table in the hall on her way to the front door, and walked outside to the driveway. She threw her car capsule on the ground and climbed into the driver's seat once the puff of smoke cleared. Not looking forward to the business negotiations she had to take part in, she sighed as she backed out of the driveway and started toward headquarters. Meetings bored her to tears, but as vice president she was required to attend at least the more important ones. It would be much worse once she stepped up to president. Hopefully that wouldn't happen anytime soon.

The drive to headquarters only took fifteen minutes. Bulma got out of her car and capsulated it, tucking it in her pocket as she went up the front walk to the main doors of the building. It was a good thing she did so much work at headquarters before her relationship with Vegeta started or she would be extremely behind in her vice presidential duties. She was at headquarters so little of late that she almost felt like a stranger walking into the lobby area, nodding greetings to those she saw and smiling at the receptionist as she passed by on her way to the elevators.

Only a few minutes after reaching her office, the phone on her desk rang. Bulma groaned as she reached across a tall stack of files to reach it; whenever someone called it was always with 'urgent' reports that were almost never that pertinent. She rested the receiver on her shoulder to free up her hands so she could keep typing. "This is vice president Brief."

"Miss Brief, this is Henrietta Sagan. We've found some rather interesting information we would like you and President Brief to take a look at. There's unusual activity on the outer edge of the solar system."

Bulma froze. The director of the Capsule Corporation space exploration program was calling to tell her there was unusual activity? Not bothering to ask for details, she replied, "Thanks, we'll be there soon. I want to see all your reports as soon as I arrive."

"Yes, Miss Brief."

The blue-haired heiress hung up the phone and jumped out of her chair to run over to the elevator. She clenched her fists as she waited for the door to open, more impatient than usual. There was no way to be sure, at least not yet, but she had a sneaking suspicion that whatever the astronomers found had something to do with Frieza. Finally, the door opened and she pushed the button to take her up to the next floor. As soon as the door reopened, Bulma stepped off the elevator and called out, "Dad? You here?"

"Over here, sweetie."

Bulma turned around the corner to find Dr. Brief in his kitchenette preparing a cup of tea. "Dad, come on, we've got to go check something out."

The urgency in her voice was enough to make him look up, setting aside his mug. "What is it? Is something the matter?"

"I don't know, maybe. Henrietta called me and said they've found something weird going on. Damnit, I don't have time to explain, come on!" She grabbed her father's sleeve and dragged him over to the elevator and pushed the button. A second later the door opened and they stepped on, pushing the button to take them down to the astronomy floor.

"What's all the fuss about?" Dr. Brief mumbled, scratching his cat behind the ears.

Bulma rolled her eyes as she stepped off the elevator and headed toward Henrietta's office. "Did you ever think _maybe_ it had something to do with Frieza?"

Dr. Brief's eyes widened. "Oh dear."

"I know it's earlier than expected," Bulma continued, "But we never knew for sure how long it would be before he would get here. It was all estimates. If this is him, we need to find out and tell Vegeta and the others so they can be ready for him."

"You're right." Dr. Brief had a difficult time keeping up with his daughter, though she was wearing high heels. She was obviously in a hurry and was practically running through the halls to get to Mrs. Sagan's office.

The Briefs turned left down another hallway and went through the first door on the right. Inside was a large desk in the middle, bookcases all around the walls, a small telescope in the far corner, extra chairs in front of the desk, and star maps laid out across the desk. Henrietta was sitting there studying images on her computer. She was an older woman with a square jaw, dull gray eyes, and short, strawberry blonde hair that was fading to gray. She turned when she heard the Briefs come in and motioned for them to sit down across from her, turning her computer monitor so they could see what she was looking at.

Bulma took the seat closer to the monitor and leaned forward, studying the image, but she was no astronomer and didn't know what she was supposed to be looking for. "What is it?"

Henrietta pointed to a larger object on the screen. "This is Neptune. Out here," she explained, circling around an area with dozens of small objects, almost invisible, "are the objects we've never seen before. We've looked at pictures taken days earlier, and they weren't there."

"That's weird."

The astronomer opened a different window, this time a sort of radar. "This shows movement of objects over the past few days. What's really astonishing is how fast these things came." She played the recorded radar. One second there was nothing, and the next there were dozens of objects already a fair distance inside the radar's range. "It's as if they materialized out of nothing."

"Or moved so fast the radio waves didn't pick up the movement." Bulma glanced over at her father, brows furrowed with worry. "But why did they stop there?"

Henrietta shrugged. "We have no idea. We can't even tell what these things are."

"I think your hunch may be correct, Bulma." Dr. Brief stood up, leaning over the desk for a better look. "Whatever they are, they're extremely small. They hardly show up here."

Bulma pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. "I want Vegeta to see this."

"Good idea, dear."

"Who's Vegeta?"

"One of the few men who might be able to identify these," Dr. Brief muttered.

It only took two rings before someone answered the phone at the compound. "Hello?"

"Mom! I need you to send Vegeta to headquarters, _now_. Tell him to find me on the sixteenth floor. We might have some information about Frieza."

"Okay, sweetie, I'll go talk to him."

"Thanks, Mom. Bye."

"Bye." Mrs. Brief hung up the phone and dashed out of the kitchen. She made record time getting out to the back yard and, though she was out of breath, kept running until she reached the gravity room and started banging on the door until Vegeta finally opened it for her.

"What?" he asked, somewhat concerned when he saw her almost frantic state.

"Vegeta! Bulma said – Bulma said you need to go…" Mrs. Brief paused, trying to catch her breath long enough to relay the message. She inhaled deeply and pressed on, "to headquarters. Sixteenth floor. Information about Frieza. Go!"

"Frieza?" Vegeta quickly overcame his shock and gently pushed past Mrs. Brief, blasting off toward Capsule Corporation headquarters as fast as he could go. As soon as he landed he ran into the building and went to the elevator, but when it didn't open right away, he lost patience and forced the door open. Ignoring the cries of surprise from around him, he jumped into the elevator shaft and flew up, meeting the elevator halfway there by flying straight through it. At the sixteenth floor he yanked the door open and started searching for Bulma's ki, which led him to Henrietta's office.

"Vegeta!" Bulma gasped when she saw him. "That was fast."

"What about Frieza?" he demanded.

Bulma pointed to the computer screen, standing up so he would have room to come over and look at the radar images. She pointed to the unidentified objects. "See these? They weren't there a few days ago. Looks like they came out of nowhere, but then they just stopped. Do you have any idea what they are?"

Vegeta flipped through the images, deathly silent. But Bulma could practically feel the tension growing in his body and she saw his tail starting to bristle around his waist. She took a small step back from him, swallowing hard. For once she hoped she hadn't been right. It was one thing to talk about Frieza coming, but to actually see the evidence was another matter. It terrified her. "Vegeta?"

"It's his army. They're gathering from nearby bases." Vegeta sighed, dragging his hand down across his face. "Frieza will be here within a few days, maybe a couple weeks tops. He's getting his army ready for invasion. Some of the soldiers are being stationed around the solar system to stop anyone who might try to escape the planet."

"Oh shit," Bulma murmured, sinking back down into the chair. "Shit. We're not ready for him!"

"What are you talking about?" Henrietta asked.

Bulma almost cracked a smile at the seeming absurdity of her answer. "Evil space tyrant's coming to Earth to kill everyone and blow up the planet."

Vegeta turned to leave, determined to get back and train as hard as he possibly could over the next few days before the invasion, but Bulma jumped up from her chair and grabbed his arm to hold him back for a minute. "Vegeta, wait. I want you to check something out here before you go. I've been working on a little side project that might help against Frieza."

"Like what?"

"Come with me." Bulma looked over her shoulder at her father, forcing a smile. "Keep watch on those things, yeah?"

"Of course, dear."

Bulma nodded and led Vegeta out of the office and back to the elevator, skidding to a halt when she saw the door ripped open. "Did – did you do that?"

"Hn."

She shook her head, slightly irritated with his tendency to destroy things, before shrugging it off. "Well, whatever. We'll fix it later. We need to go to the weapons division, which is below the main floor."

Vegeta picked Bulma up and jumped down the shaft, falling through the hole he created in the elevator, which startled its passengers, and continued down until he reached the bottom. He landed softly and set Bulma down on her feet, then tore the door open for her to lead the way. This floor was different, more like a huge open warehouse with targets scattered around for weapons testing. She punched in the code to open a large door on the side and led him through.

"I know these guys are super strong and all, but I've been working on designs for weapons that might, if nothing else, stun them," Bulma explained as she ran down a long, barren hall with no doors on the sides. At the end of the hall, she turned left, finally reaching an area with rooms off to the sides, mostly laboratories.

She turned into one of the larger laboratories and paused, looking for someone in the crowd of scientists. Having spotted the man she wanted to talk to, she took Vegeta's hand and ran over to the lead scientist. "Hey, Sherman!"

A tall man with black hair and thick glasses turned around when he heard Bulma calling. "Miss Brief! To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"The weapon designs I sent you, have you built the prototypes yet?"

Sherman nodded, gesturing for her to follow him over to a quieter area of the lab. On a large workstation rested a series of large guns. "These are the prototypes. We've already tested models 76EAR, 78EAR, and 82EAR. They work exceptionally well, though I don't imagine we would ever need that much firepower."

"We'll need them," Bulma assured him. She picked up one of the guns and handed it to Vegeta, then gave one to Sherman, and picked up the last one and carried it herself. "We're going to go do some testing right now. This is important, come on!"

If Vegeta was skeptical about the usefulness of weapons in the fight against Frieza's army, he didn't say anything. The gun, though it was large, was surprisingly light. Then again, he may have been strong enough that it didn't _seem_ heavy. Brushing that thought aside, he followed Bulma as she led the way back to the weapons testing area. She disappeared into a booth along the wall and came out wearing goggles and earplugs, handing extras to Sherman and Vegeta.

"You might want to put these on," she said as she thrust them into the saiyan's free hand. "I know you've got sensitive hearing."

"Hn." Vegeta put the earplugs in, but he didn't bother with the goggles.

"Okay," she yelled so both men could hear her, "Vegeta, I want you to be the target. You'll know better than anyone if these are strong enough to do any damage. I don't think they'll be able to hurt you."

Snorting, he walked over to the area she was pointing and crossed his arms over his chest to wait. Obviously no weapon could hurt him, but now he was curious to see just what the woman had created. If it would give the humans some advantage in fighting the invading army, that would be a help. Killing more soldiers would mean less fighters he would have to worry about going up against him and less distraction for the others so they could focus on the real warriors.

Sherman looked at Bulma incredulously as she hefted her gun onto her shoulder and aimed at the saiyan. "Are you crazy?" he yelled. "You'll kill him!"

She shook her head. "Don't worry about him." Once he stepped back, she pulled the trigger. A beam of energy shot out and made a direct hit on Vegeta's chest, the kickback nearly knocking Bulma onto her backside. After the smoke cleared, Bulma saw Vegeta standing still as a statue, totally unfazed by the blast. "How was it?"

Vegeta shrugged. "Probably enough to kill some of the weaker soldiers."

"What would it do to the stronger ones?"

"Piss them off."

"Oh." Bulma set the gun down and picked up the next largest one. "Well, let's try this one then. Ready?" When he nodded, she aimed and fired.

"That would kill anyone up to a power level of 2000," Vegeta told her.

"Getting better," she mumbled. Setting that gun aside, she picked up the largest one and aimed at her mate. "Ready for it?" His smirk told her yes, so she fired, this time falling over from the kick. Once she picked herself up from the floor and dusted herself off, she looked over to where Vegeta had been standing and gasped when she didn't see him. "V-Vegeta?"

"What, woman?"

Bulma whirled around when she heard him behind her, pressing her hand over her thumping heart. "Kami, you scared me!"

"Did you really think that little toy could hurt me?"

"Well, no, it's just – never mind. How strong was it?"

"Power levels up to 2500 would be dead."

"Good." Bulma turned to Sherman, who was gaping openly at Vegeta, and snapped her fingers in front of his face to bring him back to reality. "Sherman, I need you to start mass production of these weapons immediately. Distribute them to the military with orders to begin training with them as soon as they arrive. And keep testing the other prototypes."

"Yes, Miss Brief." Sherman shook his head as he picked up two of the guns and hurried back to his laboratory to begin production.

"Is that all, woman?" Vegeta asked, stepping closer to her.

She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. "That's all. Now go train. I'll get the pathetic humans ready, but I need you to be ready. You're going to kill him, 'Geta. I know it."

Vegeta smirked, pulling her body closer. "Of course I will." He kissed her, more forcefully, then pulled back and turned to leave. As much as he appreciated her confidence, he was still uncertain about his chances against the lizard. It didn't matter how strong he became, he doubted he would ever be strong _enough_. And now that he only had a few days left to train, he was going to do nothing _but _train. Day in, day out, no meals, no sleep, just training. Then he would eat one of those beans and kill Frieza.

With that plan in mind, Vegeta flew back to the Capsule Corporation compound. Before going into the gravity room, he stopped in the kitchen and grabbed a large snack from the refrigerator. "I'm not going shopping with you until Frieza's been killed," he told Mrs. Brief on his way out of the kitchen. He didn't like refusing to help her, but she managed before without him and she would manage again. Besides, it was just a few days. A few short days.

Vegeta shoved the food into a compartment in the gravity console for storage and cranked the gravity up to 500Gs. Bulma and her father finally managed to figure out the logistics to make the upgrade possible, and he had been training at that level since he could. It still put an incredible amount of strain on his body, but it was what he wanted. The effort it took to move forced his mind to stay focused, to stop wandering thoughts of his blue-haired mate, his old tormentor, the upcoming battle, and life afterward. All he could think about was his training. At least, until he got used to the higher gravity.

The panic rising in his chest was nearly enough to make him pass out from lack of oxygen as he pushed himself harder in his training. 'Damn it all, he shouldn't be here yet! Just three more months! That's all I need! Then I can make my wish with the dragon balls.'

He groaned as he was hit by a ricocheted energy blast, flooring him. 'I'm not strong enough yet. Hell, I'll never be strong enough.' He rose to his hands and knees, and, ignoring the burning pain in his muscles, forced himself back to his feet to start his training routine again. Already he had been training for eleven hours straight, ignoring the knocking on the door when Mrs. Brief came to get him for lunch, and then dinner. He had no time for meals, he had to keep training, to push himself to ascend – if possible – before the lizard reached Earth. That was his only goal, to get stronger, to be able to protect his pack.

But what if he couldn't? What if he really wasn't strong enough? He tried to shake his doubts, but they were persistent. He hated to admit it, even if it was only to himself, that he was truly afraid of Frieza. His blood ran cold thinking about fighting him. How many years had he suffered at the lizard's hands? How many times had he tried to defend himself and failed? How could he stand against a being so impossibly powerful? Prince of all Saiyans or not, he still felt weak by comparison. He might not make it through the fight alive, and if he didn't, there was no telling what Frieza would do to the Briefs.

He could send them away in the pods Dr. Brief built. That was the whole reason he had the old scientist build them in the first place, as a last resort to keep them safe. Of course they wouldn't go willingly, but maybe he could send one of his comrades with them as a bodyguard. Bodyguard, yes. Nappa could do it. He was the weakest saiyan anyway, but he would be more than enough to take on the lackey soldiers stationed around the edge of the solar system.

_"Nappa!"_

_ "What, Vegeta?"_

_ "Practice erecting a ki barrier around yourself. If Frieza is too strong, I want you to take the Briefs off planet, and you'll need to protect them from the lizard's men. Got it?"_

_ "Uh…sure, Vegeta. Whatever you say."_

Trusting Nappa to know what to do, Vegeta again threw himself into his training, disregarding his dry mouth and growling stomach. No breaks. He didn't have time for breaks. He had to keep training. During the night he lost track of time, but time was no longer relevant to him. As long as he could keep training, forcing his body to its limit to grow stronger, he would. Until he felt the energy of Frieza and his men on the planet, he wasn't going to come out of the gravity room for anything, not even Bulma. No, he had to keep training for her sake. Everything he did, he did for her, for his pack. It was his duty to protect them, and he wasn't about to fail them because he was a little tired.

Probably sometime in the morning, maybe afternoon – he really had no idea and didn't care either way – someone started knocking on the door to the gravity room. He growled, irritated by the interruption, but he didn't power down the simulator and didn't open the door, willing his visitor to go away. He didn't have time to talk to anyone.

"Vegeta!" Bulma screeched through the door. "Open the door this minute! Did you disable the emergency override again? It's there for a reason! How do I know you're alive in there? Vegeta!"

"Go away, woman!" he roared. He fired a ki blast at the door, knowing the sound would surprise her enough to get her to back away, at least for a while.

Bulma shrieked as she flew back from the door, surprised by the explosion. Undeterred, she marched back to the door and resumed pounding on it with fists and feet. "Vegeta, you have to take a break! I know you're tough, but you're not going to get any stronger if you just wear yourself out. Come on, get out here!"

"Leave me alone!"

She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the unopened door. "At least eat something! I know you're hungry."

"Go away!"

"Fine, you jerk!" Bulma kicked the door one last time for good measure before turning and stomping back to the compound. "I hope he starves! That idiot, does he really think this crazy training is going to help?"

When Bulma reached the kitchen to eat lunch, she found her mother and Nappa already sitting at the table eating. Sighing, she took her seat and started heaping food onto her plate. Honestly she didn't have much of an appetite, but she wanted to force herself to eat enough, as if hoping that by eating more than she needed she could somehow transfer some of her energy to Vegeta since he wouldn't come out of the gravity room.

"Where's Vegeta, honey?" Mrs. Brief asked after finishing telling a story about planting flowers to Nappa. He sighed with relief once her attention was diverted from him.

Bulma shrugged. "He won't come out. Guess he plans on keeping himself locked in the gravity room until Frieza gets here. It's not going to help him, I hope he knows that."

Mrs. Brief frowned a little. "I do hope he doesn't overwork himself."

"He will." Bulma took a bite of food and chewed slowly, forcing it down. It tasted good, but she really didn't want to eat. "Would it be so much to ask for him to come out for just a few minutes? Long enough to eat something or get a drink?"

"You know how dedicated he is to his training," Mrs. Brief said, not entirely able to even reassure herself.

"How obsessive he is, you mean." Bulma picked at her food for a few minutes. "You know, I think the real issue is that he's scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Frieza."

"Oh, that miserable creature who hurt him?" Mrs. Brief scowled at her plate, dropping her fork. "I hope he gets what's coming! How _dare_ he hurt Vegeta like he did? It's – it's just criminal!"

"Understatement."

Mrs. Brief rose from her chair and went over to the sink to start washing dishes, the sink, the counter, the stove, anything. Now far too upset to eat, she needed to calm herself, and cleaning was the next best thing to cooking. Bulma watched her for a while before shaking her head, resuming picking at her food with her fork. She could understand her mother's hatred for Frieza, surprising as it was for Mrs. Brief to hate anyone.

The rest of the day passed with the constant humming of the gravity simulator in the background. Soon all the residents of the Capsule Corporation compound were so used to the sound they didn't even hear it anymore, even when it ran all night long. There was obviously no stopping Vegeta in his quest to suddenly become strong enough to kill Frieza in a few days' time, but it was still frustrating for those who cared about him, especially Bulma. After seeing him so often and sharing a bed with him regularly for the past couple of months, it was hard to accept the fact that he had himself locked in the gravity room for an unknown length of time.

After three full days of his constant training, Bulma was more than a little worried about her saiyan lover. She sat on the back step of the compound, her gaze fixed on the door of the gravity room, hoping that just maybe Vegeta would come out for a short break. Long enough to eat, maybe to kiss her, just once. Off to the side she could hear Nappa's grunts as he moved through his kata, trying at the same time to maintain a ki barrier around himself. She didn't know why he was doing that, but figured it was some kind of plan for the fight against Frieza's men. All she knew was that the barrier kept growing around him until it engulfed half the yard.

Bulma sighed and stood up. She had been staring at the gravity room for over an hour and obviously Vegeta wasn't going to come outside anytime soon. Well, whether or not the world was going to end soon, she still had work to do. Already the weapons she had developed were being manufactured and delivered to Earth's military, so at least the world would be somewhat prepared for the arrival of Frieza's army. She felt mostly useless in the whole ordeal. Though her power level was now cresting over 1000, Vegeta had expressed more than once that he didn't want her fighting unless she absolutely had to. He didn't tell her it was because he didn't want blood spilled on her hands, so she had no idea why he wanted her to stay away from the fighting aside from wanting to keep her safe. Reluctantly she had agreed, but she still wanted to help her friends in any way she could. Apparently the best way to help was to stay out of the way, somewhere safe, where she wouldn't be a distraction to them. With one last glance over her shoulder, she went inside the compound to go work in her laboratory.

Two more days passed with Vegeta locked away in the gravity room, training every hour of every day without food, water, or rest. He felt himself growing weary after only the second day, but he forced himself to keep going, to push his endurance on. There was no time to waste. His power was over five million and it wasn't enough. Frieza was reputed to have a strength of over 100 million. How could he beat that, ever? There was just no way, he was too far behind. But if there was a chance, he was going to take it. He would not relent in his training. As much as his body urged him to rest, he screamed at himself to keep going, remembering that he wasn't just doing this for himself, not just for his dead race, but for his pack and his mate. They needed him and he was not going to let them down, not after he already let his kingdom down.

All his training bots were long since destroyed, so really he was training by himself. Not the best for making progress, but he didn't want to take any time away from his training to tell the woman to build him new bots. After five days of running constantly, the gravity simulator was making an irritating grinding noise, probably reaching the end of its limits. Soon enough that would break too, and when it did then he would really be out of luck. So, he kept going, knowing that his training might be cut short and that he needed to get as much work done before then as possible.

'I have just about had it!' Bulma thought as she trained with Nappa out in the yard. She was tired of waiting for Vegeta to come out of the gravity room, tired of feeling abandoned. Despite knowing why he was in there, she found it hard not to resent his disappearance. She wanted to see him, especially if Frieza was as close as they thought. What if she died? What if he died? Was it so wrong to want to spend as much time with him as she could before then?

By the time she finished her training with Nappa, she had formulated a plan to get Vegeta out of there. If people he cared about couldn't get him out, then maybe someone he hated could. She went inside and, after taking a fast shower, picked up her cell phone and dialed a familiar number. A few rings later, someone picked up on the other end.

"Hello, Son residence."

"Hey, Chi-Chi," Bulma said. "This is Bulma. Is Goku around?"

"He's training with Raditz. Do you want me to go get him?"

"That would be great."

"Hold on."

Bulma had to wait a few minutes, so she took the time to get dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a yellow blouse. Finally, someone picked up the phone again.

"Hey, Bulma," Goku said, "What's up?"

"Nothing much. I was wondering if you'd like to come over for a while?"

"But I'm training…"

"Goku, honestly. What difference is a few hours going to make? Frieza's coming soon and who knows if we'll ever have the chance to hang out again? Please come."

Goku sighed. "Sure, I guess. But only for a little while, okay?"

"That's fine. See you soon?"

"Sure, B. Bye."

Bulma snapped her phone shut and grinned. If Goku's presence couldn't get Vegeta out of the gravity room, she was sure nothing could, not even Frieza. Thoroughly pleased with herself, she pulled her damp hair into a ponytail and went downstairs to watch TV in the living room until Goku arrived.

When the doorbell rang an hour later, Bulma shot up from the couch and ran to the front door, hugging Goku when he stepped inside. "Hey buddy, haven't seen you in a while. How're you?"

Goku grinned, rubbing the back of his head. "I'm fine, B. How's things here with Vegeta and Nappa?"

Holding his wrist, she pulled him through the hall toward the back of the compound. "Things are fine with Nappa. I have no idea how Vegeta's doing. He's locked himself in the gravity room for five days and no one can get him to come out."

"Five days straight?" Goku exclaimed. "You mean he doesn't even come out to eat?"

Bulma chuckled at her friend's predictable surprise as she stepped outside into the blistering hot July sun. "I'm serious. He won't come out for anything. I don't think he's slept at all since he went in there."

"Man, no wonder he's so much stronger."

The blue-haired woman stopped and rested her hands on her hips, cocking her head to the side. "How strong _are _you anyway?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Not as strong as Vegeta, I don't think. Stronger than Raditz."

Bulma nodded and backed a few steps away from him. "Well, you saiyans aren't the only ones who have gotten stronger. Check it out." She held her hands out in front of her and gathered orbs of ki in her palms.

Goku's eyes widened comically. "Wow! That's really good, B!"

She laughed. "Don't patronize me. I know I'm still weak compared to you guys, but at least I can defend myself if Frieza's soldiers go after me, right?"

"Right." His grin faltered, thinking about the danger everyone was going to be in.

Bulma threw one of the ki balls at him, making a direct hit since he wasn't expecting it. "Don't worry, Goku. Everything is going to be fine. It always works out."

Goku waved away the smoke from the small explosion, coughing a little. "Yeah, I know, but I can't help it."

She peeked over at the gravity room, half hoping to see Vegeta standing there with the door open, utterly furious with her for allowing the "tailless third-class scum" on _his_ territory. But, as it had been for five days, the door was locked and barred and the gravity simulator was still running. Couldn't he sense Goku's energy? Maybe he did and just didn't care. That wouldn't be normal for him. Bulma bit her lip, turning back to Goku.

There was an unusual mix of confusion and concern in the cheerful saiyan's expression as he looked at the gravity room. Bulma glanced over her shoulder again, but nothing had changed. "What, Goku?"

"It's Vegeta's energy. It flared really high and then…dropped. Now I can barely feel it."

"What? Are you sure?" Bulma turned around and ran over to the gravity room, banging on the door with her fists. "Vegeta! Open the damn door! I'm serious!"

Unlike before when she tried to get him to come out, he didn't growl any biting comment, didn't yell at her to go away, and didn't shout any threats. More worried than ever, she kept pounding on the door, trying to force it open if she could. "Goku, help me!"

Goku was right behind her, gently pushing her aside to try his hand at knocking on the door. When Vegeta didn't yell at him either, Bulma assumed the worst, thinking perhaps Vegeta really had pushed too far and killed himself. Frantically she banged and scratched the door, desperate to get in and make sure the saiyan prince wasn't injured or worse.

"Bulma, step back." Goku raised his ki and put all of his power into a single kick, blowing the door off its hinges. He was about to go inside when Bulma grabbed his arm to hold him back.

"Wait, be careful. The simulator is still running so it's probably 500Gs in there."

"Five hundred!" Goku rolled his eyes with exasperation. Of course it would be something ridiculous like that. Raising his ki even higher, he took the first step inside and almost crashed to the floor. He groaned as he forced himself to take another step. Once inside, he looked around and saw Vegeta's body lying near the gravity console. Why _wouldn't_ he be way over there? Goku sighed before taking a deep breath and venturing further into the room.

'Man, this is intense.' Goku took several minutes reaching the gravity console, but as soon as he got there he slammed his hand down on the disengage button. Soon the gravity started to let up and he felt like he could move freely again.

Hearing the simulator powering down, Bulma ran into the room and knelt down next to Vegeta's prone form. "Oh Kami, is he okay? I hope he didn't hurt himself." She turned him over onto his back and ran her hands over his body, but she didn't feel any broken bones or blood. Sighing with relief, she hooked her hands under Vegeta's arms and pulled him out of the room into the sunlight where she could see better.

By the time she had him out in the yard, Nappa had come over to see what was going on. He hastened his pace when he saw Vegeta was unconscious. "What happened to him?"

Bulma shrugged helplessly after gently laying him in the grass. "I don't know. Goku said his energy just dropped."

Nappa nodded as he knelt down next to his prince. He felt for Vegeta's pulse on his neck to be sure he wasn't worse than he looked, releasing a long breath when he felt the steady throbbing. "He's fine, probably passed out from exhaustion. Wouldn't be the first time."

"What do you mean?" Goku asked. "This happened before?"

The large saiyan grunted as he picked Vegeta up to carry him inside to rest. "He did it all the time when he was younger. Ignores his own limits, won't stop 'til he nearly kills himself."

"Stupid, arrogant jerk," Bulma muttered, affectionately running her hand through his flame of hair.

Goku rubbed his neck, lost in his own thoughts. "No kidding. Guess that's why I can never catch up to him."

Nappa snorted. "That and you're a third-class." He smirked at the younger saiyan as he went inside the compound. Bulma followed close behind, fussing over the prince, leaving Goku alone in the yard, still marveling at Vegeta's compulsive training habits.

"I knew something like this would happen," Bulma grumbled as she sat on the edge of Vegeta's bed, wiping his brow with a cool, damp cloth. "Now what if Frieza comes? He'll be too tired to be any use in a fight."

Nappa leaned against the wall, chuckling. "Give him a few hours and he'll be fine and stronger than ever. His methods seem self-destructive, but they're surprisingly effective."

Bulma frowned. "I don't care how much stronger it makes him. I don't like him doing this to himself."

"You can take that up with him when he wakes up," Nappa said, pushing away from the wall. "I'm going to get back to training. Let me know if he needs anything."

"Thanks, Nappa."

Goku passed Nappa in the hall going the opposite direction. He stopped in the doorway to Vegeta's room and watched Bulma for a minute before a goofy smile spread across his face. Without invitation he walked in and sat backwards in the chair at the desk, resting his elbows on the back. "So's he going to be okay?"

"Yeah, he'll be fine. He just needs some rest. And food. And water. Idiot's been killing himself for almost a week." She smiled fondly, stroking his bruised cheek.

"You really care about him, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do." She leaned over and kissed the sleeping saiyan's forehead. "I guess it's okay to tell you now. Vegeta and I… I guess you could say we're dating. Or engaged. Or something. He told me he wants me to be his mate."

Goku's jaw went slack. "For real?"

Bulma laughed as she stood up and pulled Goku out of the chair to leave the room. "Yeah, for real. I don't really know how it happened, but it did. I know you don't know him very well, and maybe you still don't trust him, but I love him, and in his own way he loves me. And I don't have any doubts about staying with him forever. Not like I had with Yamcha."

Finally overcoming his shock, Goku smiled and hugged his old friend. "Then I'm happy for you and I wish you the best."

"Thanks, Goku." She hugged him back and ruffled his hair.

"Well, I better get back to training. Better see how Gohan's been holding up against Raditz and Piccolo." He grinned, waving as he ran downstairs to leave.

Bulma watched him go before going back into Vegeta's room. She went to his bathroom and filled a cup with water, then went in to sit on the edge of his bed again. Tilting his head up, she held the cup to his lips and poured some water in. Though he was unconscious, he drank the water quickly, so she went back to the bathroom and filled it again to give him more. Most likely his body was totally dehydrated. But Nappa said he would be okay, and she believed him. She just hoped Vegeta would be back up to speed before Frieza came, however long that might take. A few hours wasn't long. If Vegeta were to wake up in a few hours good as new, there was nothing to worry about. He'd be upset when he found out what happened to the gravity room, but she could endure his tantrum. At least he wasn't stuck in there on the floor being crushed to death. Having him safe was all that mattered to her. That was why she felt such pangs of fear whenever she thought about Frieza, the monster she had never seen. He struck terror into her heart because she was afraid of what he would do to Vegeta.

'Please, Vegeta,' she begged him silently, 'be okay. You have to be strong enough. You have to defeat him. I wouldn't be able to live without you. I love you more than anything."

_A/N: I didn't have time to proofread this one last time before posting because I've had my hands busy with an extremely mischievous bulldog puppy. I'm so happy. :D But yeah, I'll go over it again later, I just wanted to get this chapter up for you before I head off to my last wedding of the summer (that I'm _not _in, thank goodness!). I guess this chapter answers your questions about Frieza, and yeah the ending of the last chapter was rushed in that it was purposely nonchalant. Well, I guess that's all for now. I haven't gotten any writing done since the coming of Wynston (my puppy), but hopefully I can get a little done on the five-hour car ride today._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	63. Sanctuary

Sanctuary

Two days after Vegeta passed out from exhaustion in the gravity room, he was back to training every waking hour of the day, though he was now more inclined to listen to Bulma or Mrs. Brief when they told him he should get some rest. While his strength had grown after his days of isolated training, it was not nearly significant enough to motivate him to try it again. More than anything he was frustrated with his body's inability to gain power faster. For over a year and a half he had been training all day, every day, but he was still nowhere near strong enough to defeat Frieza. Now he was out of time and there was nothing he could do but wait for Frieza to land on Earth.

Vegeta abruptly stopped in his training, looking up at the sky. He couldn't see through the dark clouds and the heavy rain, but he knew what was up there. No one else in the universe could have a power level that high. Immediately he suppressed his power as low as he could and turned to Nappa, who was training on the other side of the yard. He was looking up to, no doubt having felt the same thing. He swallowed hard and forced himself to take a deep, relaxing breath. It was time. In a few hours, a day at the most, the invasion would begin.

"Nappa!" he yelled. "Go inside, get them, and take them to Kakarrot's home. I'll meet you there soon." Their plan of action had been discussed many times in the past day, communicated to his comrades, pack, and even the earthling warriors. When they felt Frieza approaching, they were to meet at Mount Paozu because it was a relatively safe location where they could make further plans for the lizard's arrival.

"Right." Nappa ran inside the compound and searched for Dr. Brief and Mrs. Brief, finding them in their usual places. On Vegeta's request Dr. Brief had been staying at the compound, working from his laboratory so he would be closer and getting him to safety would be easier. Nappa barged into his laboratory and, against his vehement protests, picked him up and carried him out of the lab. Dr. Brief barely managed to keep hold of Scratch as he was rushed upstairs to the kitchen. There, Nappa grabbed Mrs. Brief around the waist and, like her husband, tucked her under his arm and flared his ki around him, jumping through the wall and taking off toward Mount Paozu.

Once he felt Nappa leaving the city, Vegeta went inside, shaking the rain out of his thick mane and flicking his tail to dry it. He kicked open the door to Bulma's laboratory and jumped over the rail, bypassing the stairs. "It's time to go."

"Go?" Bulma turned from her computer, eyes wide. "Already?"

"Come on."

"Sure." Bulma pulled open the top drawer of her desk and pulled out the dragon radar and two capsules, tucking them in her pocket as she strode over to where Vegeta was waiting for her. "Let's go."

Vegeta picked her up and jumped up to the door and ran outside, instantly blasting into the sky, flying as fast as he possibly could to Mount Paozu. Bulma wrapped her arms around him, able to feel the tension in every fiber of his being and his heart hammering in his chest. He was scared; she couldn't smell it on him like he could on her, but she could sense it. She rubbed his back as they flew, hoping that her small gesture would calm him down, if only a little.

"This is it," she whispered. "The day Frieza dies is finally here."

If Vegeta heard her, he didn't show it. A few minutes passed, his frown growing deeper as he felt more high energies approaching the planet. No doubt the Ginyu Force was coming. While he didn't think of them as much of a threat anymore, he knew the damage they could cause before they were stopped. He had to make sure his pack was in a safe place before they came or terrible things could happen.

It wasn't long before Vegeta touched down in front of the small house on Mount Paozu. Nappa was already there with the elder Briefs, as were Raditz, Goku and his family, Piccolo, Krillin, Tien and Chiaotzu, Roshi, Launch, and Oolong, and Yamcha and Puar. So this was the best they had. Well, it would be enough to defeat the army, but taking on the tyrant himself would be another matter.

Bulma kissed Vegeta's cheek as she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. "You tell them what's going on and I'm going to make some calls to make sure Earth's military is ready."

"Hn." Vegeta turned to the odd assortment of assembled troops and straightened his posture, rising to his full height. Shorter than most, he seemed taller as he met their gaze one by one. "Frieza will begin his invasion within a few hours. He will send his pawns first, and while they're slaughtering the civilians, he'll move in his elite squadron, the Ginyu Force. There's five of them, so five of you will go after them once they've split up. I have no doubt they will be searching for me to take back to Frieza."

Yamcha snorted. "Full of yourself much?"

Vegeta glared at the scar-faced warrior. "I would gladly give the title of 'Frieza's Most Wanted' to someone else. He intends to torture and kill me for my mutiny."

"And we should stop him?" Yamcha grumbled.

"Shut up!" Piccolo barked.

Vegeta growled, his tail bristling and flicking. "We don't have time for this! There has to be somewhere safe on this godforsaken mudball that we can use as a base. This location is secluded, but it's out in the open, easy to find."

Goku raised his hand to speak. "We could go to Kami's Lookout."

"Where the hell is that?"

"It's where the Guardian of Earth lives. It floats way above the Earth and it's really hard to find and even harder to get to. I doubt Frieza or any of his soldiers would think to look for it."

The saiyan prince nodded curtly. "Right, then we'll go there. Lead the way, Kakarrot."

Goku looked around the group and nodded before picking up Chi-Chi and levitating off the ground to wait for the others. Nappa picked up the Briefs again, Tien took Launch, Krillin grabbed Oolong, and Yamcha reluctantly got Master Roshi. When Bulma hung up her phone, Vegeta picked her up again and lifted off the ground, bringing up the rear.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Lookout."

"Oh, wow!" she exclaimed, "I've never been there before! How cool."

"This isn't a vacation, woman."

"Yeah, I know." Bulma held onto him tightly, shivering a little as they flew higher. She was still wearing a short skirt and a tank top, not exactly the best clothes for traveling a few thousand feet in the air.

Almost an hour later the group landed on the edge of the Lookout. They were welcomed by Kami and Mr. Popo, who already knew they were coming. While Mr. Popo led the non-warriors away to have a cup of tea, Vegeta continued issuing instructions for what to do once the invasion started.

"Every soldier will have a scouter, so keep your ki suppressed or they'll find you. I don't care if you're a bunch of do-gooders, you have to kill these soldiers. If you think I'm bad, they're worse. Kill them or they'll kill you and anyone else they can find. This is war, take no prisoners."

Goku shifted his weight between his feet uncomfortably. "Vegeta, we can't just kill people. It's not right. They deserve—"

"They don't deserve anything, Kakarrot!" Vegeta growled, clenching his hands into fists. "I don't care about your stupid morals. Frieza and his men are evil. They all joined his army willingly. They _want_ to kill and destroy. Think of it as protecting the fucking universe if you have to."

Krillin shuffled his feet before timidly speaking up. "So, what do we do? Go fight the army when it comes? We're seriously outnumbered here."

Vegeta rubbed his temples. "You're not going to fight anyone right away. Wait for the Ginyu Force. The woman has Earth's pathetic militia prepared to fight the lower-ranking soldiers. Anyone killed can be revived with the dragon balls after this." Vegeta didn't honestly care much about the human populace, but Bulma did. He had gone over his battle plan with her before, and the excuses of helping people and being able to revive them were all her ideas. If it would make her idiot friends stick to the plan, though, it was worth it. Everything had to go smoothly in order for it to end with Frieza's fall.

"How are you so sure this is how it's going to go down?" Tien asked.

"It's how he's always done it," Nappa answered. "It's the proven most effective method of invasion, and if there's one thing that lizard appreciates, it's efficiency in his attacks."

"And if he changes his game plan, we will too," Vegeta added. It wasn't hard for him to come up with strategies to win a war. It was what he was bred for, to lead a warrior race. He could come up with a dozen tactics in minutes and any one of them would be a sure win.

Piccolo stepped forward as he asked, "What happens once this Ginyu Force is taken care of? You said Frieza comes after them?"

Vegeta nodded and started to pace, his tail uncoiling from his waist and twitching with agitation. "You'll have split up to take on the Ginyu Force. Stay where you are and watch for Frieza. He'll come in a large, circular ship, impossible to miss. If you see him, give a signal: three quick flares of ki, but you have to make sure they're fast enough that no scouters detect them. Do _not_ try fighting him. Frieza is mine. Once I get there, go kill the rest of his army."

"Won't you need backup?" Goku asked. The idea of letting the prince have the biggest, most exciting challenge didn't appeal to him. He wanted a crack at the tyrant too.

"Only if I'm losing," Vegeta growled. "And I won't be. Stay out of my fight."

Goku huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and sulking. Vegeta was always such a downer. "Fine."

"Idiot," Vegeta muttered. He shook his head, continuing, "These are your assignments for fighting the Ginyu Force: Kakarrot, you take the leader, Captain Ginyu. He'll have the highest power; he's a hideous purple mutant with horns. Raditz, you take Jeice. Three-eyes, you fight Recoome, the second strongest. Huge guy with orange hair. He's a moron but he's strong, so watch yourself. Namek, fight Burta. He's supposedly the fastest being in the universe – which is total bullshit – but he's not that strong. He's a tall, blue reptilian creature. And scar-face, you have the pleasure of killing Guldo. He's short, fat, has four eyes, and weak, but he can stop time and control you with his mind if you let him, so don't try attacking him head-on."

"What about the rest of us?" Krillin asked.

"You'll wait here with me until I order you to go," Vegeta snapped. "If anyone from this pathetic first line of defense gets himself killed, we'll need a plan B." Besides, he wanted to make sure there were warriors to stay with his pack in case anyone happened to find the Lookout. He wasn't going to risk leaving them on their own if he didn't have to.

His commands given, Vegeta turned and strode across the platform to the main palace where the guardian and his caretaker had taken his pack. Nappa and Raditz ran after him, hoping to find some food inside.

Yamcha glared at his back as he walked away. "Who put him in charge anyway? I don't think we should trust him. For all we know he's playing us into Frieza's hands."

Goku shook his head. "I don't think so. Maybe I don't know him too well, but I think he's the best hope we've got of defeating this Frieza guy. His plan is great and he knows how Frieza works better than anyone. He knows what he's doing."

"Come on, Goku," Krillin said, trying to lighten the mood, "How bad could Frieza be anyway? I think these saiyans are just overreacting."

Piccolo rolled his eyes. "You feel his power, don't you?"

Krillin looked down at the floor. "Yes."

"Then shut up," Piccolo snarled. "I don't like following Vegeta's orders either, but I'll do what it takes to win."

"You're right," Tien agreed. He sat down with his legs crossed. "I guess we just wait then."

Vegeta followed Bulma's ki signal until he found her sitting around a large table with the rest of the earthling refugees sipping a cup of jasmine tea. She smiled and lifted her hand as a small wave when she saw him standing in the doorway. "Vegeta, come sit down."

Glancing at the others warily, Vegeta walked across the room and sat in a chair that Mr. Popo pulled up to the table next to Bulma. He was so focused on trying to lessen the feeling of apprehension rising in his gut that he hardly heard her as she talked about mundane things, likely trying to take his mind off the upcoming battle for a while.

"So did everyone agree to the plan?" she finally asked, seeing he wasn't listening to her mindless chatter.

"Hn."

"Good." She sipped her tea quietly for a few minutes before setting her cup down and resting her hand on his leg. "There was one other thing I think you should do. Communication is going to be a bit of a problem, so I was thinking, maybe you should make a telepathic link to Goku."

"How do you know about that?" he grumbled.

"Nappa told me about it."

"Figures." Vegeta's eyes shifted around the room, but he didn't see his bodyguard anywhere so he couldn't give him an angry, accusing glare at the moment. "I fail to see how that would help anything."

Bulma sighed, gently rubbing his leg. "If you need to tell him something but he's far away, what better way is there? It's not like you have to be all buddy-buddy with him."

Vegeta sighed. He knew she was right, but he was loath to make the connection with Kakarrot. It wouldn't be hard since he was a saiyan, but he couldn't help thinking it would degrade his own mind to share that link with the brainless clown. "Fine, if he agrees to it, I'll make the link."

The blue-haired woman patted his leg before picking up her teacup and taking another drink. "Go do that now and we can spend a little time together before the big battle, what do you say?"

Smirking devilishly, Vegeta stood up and walked back out to the platform where the earthling fighters were still standing around, waiting. He would very much enjoy some time with his woman before leaving to fight Frieza. Vegeta approached the wild-haired saiyan and, swallowing back his pride, gestured for him to step away from the others. With a suspicious expression, Goku followed him a few yards away from his friends.

"What's up, Vegeta?"

"The woman has suggested I form a mental link with you for communication purposes during the battle."

"And?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Do you agree to it or not, clown?"

Goku shrugged, remembering when he made a link with Raditz. It hadn't been painful or anything, though it was strange feeling someone else's conscious move around in his own before he learned how to guard his thoughts better. "I guess it's a good idea."

"Hn. Clear your mind and let me make the link. You can reinforce it once I've made it." Clearing away all thought, Vegeta reached out with his conscious to the saiyan standing in front of him, searching for his mind. It was similar to sensing a person's ki, but the mind was harder to grasp as it was not at all physical. Minutes dragged by until finally Vegeta's tendril of conscious brushed against Goku's, giving both of them a sudden jolt as thoughts and memories raced across the fragile link both ways.

Goku cried out, clutching his head in his hands when every one of his senses told him he was in one of Vegeta's memories, being mercilessly beaten and goaded by a round pink alien with spikes jutting from his head and forearms. He gasped as he fell to his knees, feeling as though he had many shattered bones, his legs ripped from their sockets and twisted in unnatural positions.

"Get the hell out of my head, Kakarrot!" Vegeta roared. He shoved the other saiyan out, closing off the mental link as quickly as he formed it. He growled, clenching his hands into fists. "You were supposed to wait until I was finished forming it!"

"Sorry," Goku groaned, "I didn't mean to do it. Who was that?"

Vegeta gave the tailless saiyan a cold glare as he crossed his arms over his chest, then looked off to the side. "Dodoria. One of Frieza's lapdogs."

"He's strong?"

"Hardly. I could have defeated him years ago, but the opportunity never presented itself."

"How old were you when that happened?"

Vegeta sneered, turning away. "Do you always stick your nose in other people's business, or just mine?"

"Sorry."

Grumbling, Vegeta rubbed his forehead, trying to regain his patience. He was mostly irritated with himself for allowing the other saiyan into his memories, making him reluctant to try building the connection again. "Try it again."

"Okay." Goku pushed aside his thoughts and waited to feel the connection between himself and the prince. This time he was more ready and didn't feel overwhelmed by the link, making it easier to control his own mind from diving into Vegeta's. In truth, he didn't want to see any more of the saiyan prince's memories if the previous one was a taste of things to come. He winced when he felt Vegeta's mind moving through his own, exploring his thoughts and memories, and felt the connection strengthening by the second. Finally, Vegeta's mind retreated, leaving a link between them like an invisible thread that thoughts could cross as they willed it.

_"Try to project your thoughts to me."_

Goku frowned a little, concentrating on sending a message across their new link. _"Like this? Can you hear me?"_ his voice blared in Vegeta's head.

_"You don't have to yell, idiot!"_

_ "Oops, sorry. Hey, this is pretty cool. It seems different than the link I have with Raditz. Why do you think that is?"_

Vegeta rolled his eyes as he walked away, heading back to where his woman was. _"It's a stronger link." _Not wanting to listen to anymore of the earthling saiyan's idiocy, he shut off the link, effectively silencing him. Now he could feel Goku's conscious brushing against his own, gently demanding recognition and attention, but not nearly persistent enough for Vegeta to mind. When he felt more urgency behind it, he would know the other saiyan wanted to communicate something more important than his usual drivel.

When he entered the room where the others were still sitting around the table, Bulma excused herself and got out of her seat to go over to him. Not caring that he wouldn't like her showing affection in front of anyone, she hugged him tightly, nuzzling into his neck. It was beginning to sink in just how dire their situation was. Vegeta and all her friends were going into a battle that they might not return from, and many of them had already died once before and couldn't be revived again with the dragon balls. What if she lost one of them? What if there wasn't a way to bring them back? At least Vegeta could be brought back, assuming the planet was left intact, she didn't die, and she could find all the dragon balls and summon the dragon. The sheer number of if's she had to contend with were enough to terrify her.

"What's wrong, woman?" he purred, sniffing her aqua hair. Her fear was permeating her natural scent, making him feel overly protective over her, enough to forget they were in the presence of others not privy to their courtship.

Bulma sighed, knowing what he was really asking. There was no avoiding the question once it was asked, so she answered, "I'm scared for you. I know you can beat Frieza, but still, what if something goes wrong? I don't want you to get hurt."

"Injuries are a consequence of battle." Vegeta wrapped his arms around her, surrounding her slim body with his warmth and strength. His attempt at consolation was effective enough that within a minute he could smell less fear on her.

"Yeah, I know."

"Don't worry about me, woman." Vegeta nipped her neck. "I'll be fine. You should be more concerned about your weakling friends."

"Please don't say that."

"Hn." Vegeta released her from his hold and backed out of the room, wrapping his tail around her wrist to pull her along with him. "You brought the armor?"

"Oh, yeah, I almost forgot about that." Bulma dug around in her pocket for the capsules she took from her desk before leaving Capsule Corporation. She pulled them out and pushed the plunger on one, then tossed it on the floor. The smoke blew away, revealing the saiyans' mended bodysuits, armor, boots, and gloves. They were modified slightly, the large shoulder pads and groin and hip guards removed for a more sleek appearance and improved mobility.

Vegeta sat down on the ground and started pulling off his clothes, stripping down to his boxers. Not at all body shy, he couldn't have cared less who saw him, but he felt slightly uncomfortable when he caught the faint scent of Bulma's desire. Ridiculous woman, was it so easy to arouse her? Shaking his head, he put on the blue, stretchy bodysuit and pulled his armor down over his head. Stepping into his boots, he slid his gloves onto his hands and rolled his shoulders, reacquainting himself with the feel of his armor after training in earthling clothes for over a year and a half.

Once suited up, Vegeta jumped to his feet and scanned the area for his saiyan comrades. He didn't see them out on the platform of the Lookout, so he assumed they were inside stuffing their faces or lazing about somewhere. _"Nappa, Raditz! Get your armor on."_

A few seconds later, Raditz and Nappa came running out of the palace, nearly toppling over each other as they skidded to a halt a few feet from Vegeta and Bulma. They started pulling their human clothes off, not caring who was around. Bulma blushed, turning away from them as she waited for them to put on their armor. It didn't take long before she heard the sound of something being encapsulated: their human clothes. She turned back around and picked up the capsule, returning it to its place in her pocket.

Bulma stepped closer to Vegeta, holding onto his arm with both hands. Being separated from him was becoming increasingly painful the longer they waited for the invasion to begin. When she couldn't feel him, when her senses weren't overloaded with Vegeta, the panic and dread threatened to overcome her again. How she was going to handle him leaving to go fight Frieza, she didn't know.

Vegeta coiled his tail around her waist, holding her close to him. He could sense her apprehension, her desire to stay close to him. He couldn't blame her; in truth, he was feeling the same thing. But he knew he couldn't stay at her side through this battle. Frieza couldn't come near her, he couldn't allow her to be put in such immediate danger. The lizard would use her against him, threatening to hurt her or worse. She was his greatest weakness, and if she was discovered, there would be no way to keep Frieza from exploiting that.

He looked over at his bodyguard, one of the people he trusted most of the few he trusted at all. Frowning, he put his arm around Bulma's shoulders. His top priority was keeping her safe, no matter the cost. "Nappa."

"Yeah, Vegeta?"

"You're going to stay here through the battle." He averted his eyes, not wanting to see the incredulous stare the old saiyan was giving him. "You will protect my woman with your life. If anyone comes here, you will immediately kill him. Do you understand?"

"Of course."

"And if things get out of control, I want you to take my pack away." He reached into Bulma's pocket, startling her, and pulled out the second capsule she brought. Tossing it to Nappa, he explained, "This is the spacecraft Dr. Brief designed based on the pods. All four of you can easily travel in it."

"No, Vegeta!" Bulma protested, turning to wrap her arms around his neck, shaking her head frantically. "No, I'm not leaving without you. There's no way!"

"Don't fail me, Nappa."

"Yes, Vegeta." Nappa bowed his head, wincing as his hearing was assaulted by Bulma's incoherent shrieking that soon turned into sobbing. He tucked the capsule into his armor where it would be safe and pushed Raditz away from the others so they could have some privacy.

Vegeta pulled Bulma in front of him and cupped her cheeks in her hands, brushing her tears away with his thumbs. "Hush, woman," he said gruffly, "I can't be concerned about your safety while I'm fighting. Do you want to get me killed?"

She shook her head, sniffling. Of course she didn't want Vegeta to get hurt because of her, but how could she leave him? What he was asking of her was unfair. She had vowed to herself that she would stick with him through everything, but now he was saying that if things get bad enough, she had to leave the planet without him. Where would she go? How could she even go on living without him? He had to be out of his mind. She would sooner die than abandon him on Earth if things weren't working in his favor. He should escape too, go somewhere else where he could continue training until he became strong enough to finally defeat the lizard.

As if sensing her thoughts, Vegeta tilted her chin up to look her in the eye. "If I am killed, if the planet is destroyed, go to planet Namek. You still have the information you uploaded from my scouter, correct? Find it and go there. I am certain there will be a set of dragon balls there you can use to revive me and anyone else Frieza kills."

Bulma turned her gaze down. "What if I can't find it? What if they don't have dragon balls, or I can't find them, or I can't wish you back with them? Vegeta, I can't do it. I can't leave you. If you're losing to Frieza, you have to come with me."

"No, woman. I will defeat him or die trying." He smirked, leaning close enough for their noses to touch. "I can only imagine the power I would gain from being killed, considering how much stronger I get whenever I am brought back from the brink of death."

"You would think of that." She tried to suppress it, but she couldn't help the small smile that graced her lips. "You're always ten steps ahead of everyone else."

"It's how I've survived this long." Vegeta kissed her then, aggressively. He wanted to spend his last moments with her indulging in her passion, drowning himself in her vivacity. If he did die, he wanted to remember her at the pinnacle of their desire, solidifying his firm trust that she would go to the ends of the universe and beyond, doing everything in her power to bring him back. He would need that hope in hell.

…

Frieza sneered at the white-streaked blue marble floating in space. Such a tiny, pathetic planet was hardly worth his time and most certainly undeserving of his magnificent presence. How fitting that the monkey prince would choose such a disgusting speck of scum as his home. Not that it mattered; soon enough he would rid the universe of the ball of filth, taking with it the last of the monkey race. He considered it his civic duty to the galaxy.

He turned his attention from the window when he heard the doors to his throne room open. Zarbon strode toward him, then knelt before him with his head bowed respectfully as he delivered his latest report. "Lord Frieza, the Ginyu Force has entered the star system. They should be on-planet within the hour. Do you have further orders for them before beginning the search for Vegeta?"

"I trust you have already told them I want him alive?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Then that is all." Waving his hand in dismissal, Frieza turned his throne around to stare out the window again. One corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk as he looked at the unsuspecting planet. He imagined the teeming masses of helpless peons, running and screaming in terror when his soldiers began the purge. He did not partake in the clearing of planets nearly enough to satisfy his sadism. But, he figured, he would gather more than enough amusement from his pet prince as he slowly stole the life from him, finally forcing him to submit to him before he ended his life.

It truly was a shame he would never own Vegeta as he wanted. For years he dreamed of the day when the saiyan would finally bow before him with authentic servitude and humility. He wanted more than anything to break the saiyan's pride, to cut down his defiance until finally he chose submission rather than rebellion. Frieza's smirk faltered as his fingers started rapping against his armrests. Perhaps it was better for him to end Vegeta this way. A small part of him, the part that actually did care for the little prince, would rather have royal blood on his hands than see Vegeta lose the fire that so easily captured his interest the first time he saw him as a small boy. It was the same part of him that refrained from killing Vegeta when he lost his sanity in the isolation chamber, the same part that stayed his hand so many times before when he was one blow from killing the prideful monkey. It was the part of himself that he would always deny, the part that he could never let anyone see. Hopefully it would die along with Vegeta.

_A/N: No time to proofread, no time to write new chapters... thanks for all the reviews. I read them all, but I don't remember any specific questions so I'll either let the story answer them if they were there or answer them later. Right now I need to lull an overactive puppy to sleep so I can get a little more sleep..._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	64. Invasion

Invasion

The earthling warriors were playing a game of poker when they suddenly jumped to their feet and ran to the edge of the Lookout, looking below as they felt the incredible number of high power levels falling through the sky. If these were the pawns, they hated to see what kind of powers they would have to contend with when Frieza moved in his knights, rooks, and bishops: the Ginyu Force. Knowing the people of Earth were in danger was infuriating and a rising feeling of helplessness grew in their hearts as the tyrant's army continued shooting through the atmosphere, come to purge the planet of all life. Standing around waiting was insufferable; they were the Earth's defenders, and they should be down there fighting those soldiers, not leaving it for the human militia to handle. Even with strong weapons, they couldn't possibly be fast enough.

Goku glanced over his shoulder when he heard the steady tapping of Kami's staff as he walked over to where they were standing, expression grim. "Kami! How bad is it?"

The wrinkled Namekian sighed as he came to a stop a few paces behind the others. "They are many, but the Earth's military should be able to hold them off long enough for Vegeta's plan to work. There are already casualties and there will be many more, but you mustn't act rashly."

"I don't like this," Tien grumbled. "We should be down there helping!"

"What are we going to do?" Krillin asked, rubbing his smooth head. "Ignore Vegeta's orders? I hate standing here on the sidelines, but we have to fight to win this."

"And we will," Goku assured his friends. His hands clenched into fists as he took a deep, calming breath, releasing some of his anger with it. "But we have to wait."

The next half hour dragged on, each minute feeling like a year to the warriors as they held themselves in check. They could practically hear the screams of fear and smell the smoke of burning cities and charred flesh. Still, they were willing to heed Kami's words, if not Vegeta's. They couldn't hastily move in with any hopes of winning this battle. Following a plan was the only way to ensure success, and the only plan they had to follow was the one devised by the saiyan prince. Even if they didn't wholly trust him, even if they were reluctant allies in this war, they had to obey his commands for the sake of their planet and its people.

By the time they felt five significantly higher power levels arrive on the planet, they were all itching to start the fight. The new ki were intimidating but manageable if they played their cards right. Going into battle against these new warriors one-on-one didn't seem like the best idea Vegeta had ever come up with, but they were forced to trust him. It didn't matter how strong they were; they had trained for the past two years for this, and they were ready. They were discussing amongst themselves if it was the Ginyu Force they were feeling when Vegeta came around from the other side of the Lookout, arms crossed over his chest and a fierce scowl on his face.

"Vegeta, is that the Ginyu Force?" Goku asked.

Vegeta nodded once before stopping right at the edge of the platform, looking down. "Wait for them to split up, then go after them."

Goku chuckled a little. "Wow, they're not nearly as strong as I thought they'd be!"

"Yes," Vegeta agreed bitterly, "They seemed much more _elite_ the last time I saw them." Turning, he left them again. He felt no need to reiterate the plan or give any pep talks. Either they were ready or they weren't, so nothing he could say would make their battles go any better. Besides, he was focusing on the massive ki orbiting around the planet. It was incredible even from a great distance. What would it feel like once he landed? Would his power totally overwhelm his senses? What had he gotten himself into? How could he hope to win? Growling, he shook the doubts from his head. Somehow he would win, no matter how impossible it seemed.

A few minutes after Vegeta affirmed their thoughts that the Ginyu Force had arrived, they felt the five high powers splitting up, each darting off in a different direction. Presumably they were searching for Vegeta, so they certainly wouldn't be expecting any confrontations from other warriors. Surprising them shouldn't be too difficult, then. Leading the first line of attack, Goku leaped off the Lookout and waved his arm for the others to follow.

…

"Alright, men," Captain Ginyu said, pacing back and forth in front of his soldiers who were struggling to hold their odd poses. "You know the orders. We are to find Vegeta and Nappa to bring back to Lord Frieza, _alive_. Report back here once they are found. And remember, search with _style_!"

"Yes, sir!" the four mutants shouted, saluting their brilliant captain.

"Now go!"

Each of them struck another pose, announcing his name before blasting off in his assigned direction to search for the monkey prince. Each of them wanted to be the one to find Vegeta, not only because they would undoubtedly have the pleasure of beating him up, but also because there was the reward of a chocolate bar for whoever brought him back.

Captain Ginyu watched his men leave before pushing the button on his scouter to get a power reading of the planet's nearby inhabitants. He sneered when he saw the pathetically low numbers. All so weak, so pathetic. Finding Vegeta and Nappa would be a breeze because, weak as they were, they were still hundreds of times stronger than the indigenous population. He levitated off the ground, preparing to head south to begin his search for the saiyans, when he was suddenly knocked to the ground.

More confused than anything, Ginyu picked himself up out of the rubble and dusted himself off, looking around for whoever managed to get a lucky hit. He froze when he saw a man standing several yards away. He was wearing a tacky orange gi and his black hair wildly shot out in all directions, but what really gained Ginyu's attention were his black eyes that lacked malice yet produced a sense of foreboding in his gut.

"Who're you?" he demanded.

The man tilted his chin up proudly. "My name is Goku and this is my home. You would leave if you know what's good for you."

Ginyu scoffed, shifting into his fighting position. "Leave? I'm just getting started! Do you know who I am?"

Goku smirked as he moved into his own stance. "Yeah, you're Captain Ginyu. I've been told about you, though I was expecting you to be a lot stronger."

The confident expression on the mutant's face slipped, being replaced by shock. "And I suppose you think you're stronger than me? You don't know what you're getting yourself into! My scouter says your power level is only 5000."

The saiyan's expression became more serious. "You shouldn't trust everything you see. I'll give you one last chance to leave this planet and never come back."

"Fool!" Ginyu growled before charging at his opponent. He swung his fist to hit Goku, but his arm passed through an afterimage. Gaping openly, he looked around, but he didn't see Goku anywhere.

"Hey, you looking for me?" Goku asked, now standing behind the purple alien. When Ginyu turned, he made a silly face at him and phased out of sight again.

"What?" Ginyu levitated off the ground, rage building. "No one mocks the great Captain Ginyu!"

Calming himself a little, he lowered himself to the ground and was about to start his dance routine introduction when he was again knocked to the ground by a swift kick to the side of the head. Grunting, he got up again. "Hey, I wasn't ready yet!"

Goku paused in his next attack, his eyebrows arching up. "Huh? I thought we were fighting already."

"No, you idiot!" Composing himself, Captain Ginyu stood up straight with his heels together and arms hanging at his sides. After clearing his throat, he began his self-introduction. "And presenting…" he raised himself to his toes and started shuffling to the side, simultaneously raising his arms above his head. "…the one and only…" His hands reached their apex and dropped again in a swooping motion across his chest. "…magnificent Captain Ginyu!" He ended by raising one knee with one arm crossed over his chest and the other raised straight above his head.

Goku watched, baffled, cocking his head to the side and rubbing the back of his neck. "What's the point of that? Are we dancing or fighting?"

His perfect posture sagged as he was again left speechless. His style was supposed to strike fear into the hearts of any who opposed him, but obviously this idiot was too stupid to know when to run. Frowning, Ginyu dropped out of his pose and clenched his hands into fists. At least it wouldn't be difficult finishing off such a weakling. After all, he had a mission to finish; there wasn't time to waste fooling around with this brainless moron.

…

Despite having four eyes, Guldo wasn't too observant. Yamcha was able to easily sneak up on him and launch the first attack before he was even detected. More than anything, he had to be careful not to attract the attention of the other soldiers who were fighting in the area. Guldo didn't have a scouter and apparently couldn't sense ki, but the soldiers did have scouters and no doubt would have attacked had they been made aware of a strong opposing fighter in their vicinity.

Of course the fight would have gone much faster if Yamcha had struck with a killing blow the first time, but he held back. Instead, his punch only succeeded in rupturing the veins in Guldo's rightmost eye, impairing his vision. The second blow was a kick that sent the small alien flying through the air like a beach ball. But by then, Guldo had caught on to the fact that he was being targeted, so he took a deep breath and held it, stopping time for a moment so he could find the person who was trying to engage in battle against him.

His eyes bulged when he spun around and saw Yamcha right behind him, fist only a few inches from the his face. Stumbling backwards, he started powering up a counterattack, but it drained his energy enough that he couldn't hold his breath any longer. As soon as he exhaled time resumed and Yamcha, somewhat dazed and definitely confused, finished his punch, nearly falling over as he lost his balance when, instead of hitting solid flesh, his arm passed through thin air. It only took him a second to regain his bearings before he saw the ki blast coming straight at him. He easily batted it away and immediately phased behind the small alien and gave him a hard kick that made his round body roll several yards.

Guldo inhaled deeply, about to stop time again, but he wasn't quite fast enough before Yamcha reappeared right in front of him, blasting him into oblivion with a relatively weak kamehameha wave. "That had to be about the easiest fight I've ever won," Yamcha said, wiping his hands on the pants of his gi. He looked down at the blackened remains of the frog-like mutant alien, his lip curling in disgust at the sight and smell. Taking a moment to survey his surroundings, he noticed that his fight had, indeed, gained the attention of many of Frieza's soldiers. None of them were particularly strong, but they had the advantage in number.

'Great,' Yamcha thought, turning in a circle to assess exactly how many he was going up against. 'I don't have time for this. I need to be on the lookout for Frieza. Oh well, I could use a good fight.' Lowering himself into his fighting stance, he faced off against a horde of alien soldiers, confident in his impending victory.

…

He _was_ fast, he had to give him that. Still, speed definitely wasn't going to be enough to save the blue reptilian alien. Piccolo cut him off, glaring at him coolly with arms crossed as he hovered in the air in front of Burter. "You must be one of Frieza's goons."

The blue alien snarled at the Namekian, fists clenching. Before he lost his temper, he lowered himself to the ground, appraising Piccolo as he landed as well. "I am a servant of Lord Frieza." Burter then shifted into the position to begin his introduction routine. "My name is Burter—"

"I don't care who you are," Piccolo cut him off. "Spare me the introduction, I just want to kill you." Knowing he would need more speed to win against this strange creature, Piccolo cast aside his turban and cape, each making a dull thud as they hit the ground, kicking up small clouds of dust that wafted away in the light breeze.

"You talk big for a weakling!" Burter pushed the button on his scouter to get a reading on Piccolo's power level. "You're pathetic! Power level 2000, I could kill you in my sleep."

Rather than continuing the verbal attacks, Piccolo instead chose to begin the real fight. Without warning he phased over to Burter and delivered a fast uppercut that his opponent dodged, then feinted a follow-up right hook that Burter blocked, then finished with a swift roundhouse kick that landed. While the blue alien gasped for breath, doubled over, Piccolo crashed his fists down on the back of his head, sending him face-first into the ground.

Burter wasn't down for long; he jumped back to his feet and darted several yards into the air, readying two orbs of ki in his hands. Before he could fire, though, Piccolo appeared behind him and kicked him down to the ground again. As soon as he rose, he fired a blast of ki at Piccolo, catching the Namekian off-guard. Seeing his window of opportunity, Burter was in front of Piccolo in a flash, managing to get in a solid backhand, elbow in the ribs, and back kick before Piccolo knew what was happening.

"I am the fastest being in the universe!" Burter boasted as he caught Piccolo in a headlock.

Rolling his eyes, Piccolo reached over his shoulder and grabbed Burter's hand, twisting his arm until there was a sickening crack as one of the bones in his forearm broke. Burter howled in pain, instantly releasing Piccolo. He clutched his arm to his chest, seething with rage as he backed away from him. No one mocked a member of the Ginyu Force this way! Ignoring the pain shooting through his arm and into his hand, he clenched his fists and shot forward to try getting some more good hits in.

He was so absorbed in his fight that he didn't even notice the rising power level of his opponent displayed on the screen of his scouter as he fought the green warrior. Had he noticed, he may have retreated, finding himself clearly outmatched, but with furious resolve he continued swinging and missing the stronger, faster fighter. It became more obvious after only a few minutes that Piccolo was the more level-headed fighter, as his technique did not suffer from building frustration and he gave more staggering blows as time progressed.

Panting, he again backpedaled away from Piccolo, fangs bared in anger. It wasn't possible for someone so weak to be gaining the upper hand this way. Had he not been wearing armor, it was likely he would have already been defeated. Luckily, it absorbed the brunt of the attacks he was receiving, giving him a slightly better chance. He was beginning to think the only way to win would be to wear the other fighter out until he was so tired he couldn't fight anymore.

Snickering as he came up with the rather simple plan, Burter fired a small barrage of ki blasts at Piccolo, then blasted off to the east while his opponent was distracted. If he could reach Jeice, then this green man wouldn't have a chance. They could team up and use their purple comet hurricane technique. As he made his tactful retreat, he reached up and pushed the button of his scouter to contact Jeice and tell him the plan.

…

Jeice was flying to his sector of the planet when he was suddenly hit with a strong beam of ki that sent him spiraling through the air. He almost hit the ground before he could catch himself, landing cleanly on his feet. Looking down at himself, he growled when he saw that his perfect armor was marred with a circle of soot from the explosion and his scouter was completely destroyed. "Alright, who the hell did that?" he shouted.

"I believe that would be me," Raditz answered smoothly as he touched down a few feet away from the orange mutant warrior.

Jeice looked up at him, stunned. He pointed at the large saiyan and said, "You! You're supposed to be dead!"

Raditz shrugged, smirking mischievously. "Maybe I should be, but I'm not, as you can see." He shifted into his fighting stance. "Now then, what do you say we cut the small talk and fight? I've been wanting to kill you for a long time."

"Ha! Yeah right, mate!" Jeice scoffed, moving into his own stance. "As if the likes of you would ever have a chance against _me_!"

Raditz took another moment to appraise the smaller warrior before charging forward. Jeice simultaneously flew forward, their fists clashing in the middle as they started a flurry of punches almost too fast to see. As they continued, they slowly rose off the ground, taking their fight to the air. Raditz was holding back his true power, more interested in drawing out Jeice's pain before going in for the kill. It had been a long time since he was in a fight to the death, and to be honest it didn't get his blood boiling the way it used to, but the idea of pulverizing a member of the Ginyu Force was extremely satisfying. There was no way he could lose to Jeice; he was many times stronger now, so he wasn't worried. Of course, he had to remind himself not to take _too_ long so he could be on the alert for Frieza's arrival on the planet.

Jeice whirled around, first missing his target – Raditz's jaw – with a backhand, then catching his ribs with the following roundhouse kick. He chortled victoriously as he clenched his fists together and made to bring them down on the saiyan's head, but he was left breathless when he instead received a large fist in his gut. Coughing up a glob of bloody phlegm, he moved away from his opponent to regain his breath and start anew.

But Raditz wasn't willing to wait for Jeice to recover before he flew after him, phasing out of sight just before striking with a right punch, reappearing behind him, and hitting him with a side kick in the middle of his back. Again thrown on the defensive, Jeice turned around and with both hands caught the saiyan's fist that was aimed directly at his head. Still holding Raditz's fist, he brought his knee up to kick his gut, but, much to his chagrin, he wasn't able to reach.

Only a second later, Raditz spun around, kicking Jeice's head and knocking him to the ground. He crawled out of the crater his body created, coughing and panting, and stood up unsteadily, preparing himself for another round against the third-class saiyan. "How'd you get so strong?" he demanded. "Saiyans are weak!"

Raditz phased in front of him and caught him with a hard uppercut, knocking him back a few steps before he regained his balance. "Simple. I trained. It's amazing what a gravity simulator can do for an ordinary training regimen."

"A what?"

Two balls of ki started growing in Raditz's hands as he slowly advanced on the small warrior, who was now beginning to realize the peril he was in. He turned to run, but he only took a few steps before one of the ki attacks hit him square in the back. Screaming as he fell to the ground, he reached around to feel his back to assess the injury. He was relieved when he found that his armor was still intact, but he choked on his sigh of relief when his hands wrapped around clumps of loose, burnt hair.

"My hair!" he gasped. A burning fire of rage ignited in his chest as he pushed himself back to his feet, turning to face the large saiyan. "Do you have any idea how long it took me to grow my hair out that long?"

"What?" Raditz taunted, raking his free hand through his long mane. "You mean you weren't born with it?"

Jeice was about to shout a retort when his scouter blipped to life as another high power level approached. Seeing the power reading, he turned back to Raditz, smirking as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You think you're tough, do ya? Let's see how you do against the Purple Comet Hurricane!"

"Purple comet what?" Raditz asked, baffled by the ridiculous title. He raised an eyebrow when Burter seemingly appeared out of nowhere next to Jeice, blowing up a cloud of dust in his wake.

"Jeice!" Burter hissed, "There's a warrior following me and he's strong. I say we combine our strength to defeat him."

The white-haired fighter snorted. "What, you couldn't take on one of these earthlings?"

"He's not an earthling."

"No," Raditz said, nodding toward Piccolo who was hovering in the air above them, "He's not an earthling. Definitely a Namek. Not that it matters what he is because he's still going to kick your ass."

Burter glanced over at the long-haired saiyan, then did a double take. "Raditz? But I thought he was dead!"

Jeice shrugged. "Obviously not, mate. Now let's kill these guys so we can get back to the mission. The cap'n doesn't like us wasting time."

"Right."

The two Ginyu members started powering up until they were surrounded by red and blue auras, respectively. They jumped into the air and pushed their auras outward until they combined, forming a glowing ball of purple ki around them. Then they each flew toward Piccolo, each missing when they tried to punch him. Turning their attention to Raditz, they flew straight at him, dodging when they were inches away, trying to intimidate him. For several minutes this continued until finally they stopped mid-air to regroup and rethink their attack.

"This isn't working!" Burter growled.

They continued discussing strategy for another minute before Piccolo lost patience. Unlike Raditz, he was not interested in drawing out the fight any longer than necessary, and in his opinion it had been drawn out long enough already. He lowered himself to the ground, close enough to Raditz to tell him without the others hearing that they should fight back this time around. Nodding, Raditz agreed, clenching his fists as he prepared to hit them when they came at him again.

Once Burter and Jeice finished strategizing, they looked down and saw Piccolo and Raditz standing together, making their attack even easier. With a silent nod, Burter started the attack, charging toward Piccolo while Jeice headed for Raditz. They were each about to strike when Raditz and Piccolo both moved their hands in front of them and fired powerful beams of ki at them once they reached point blank range. The blasts, packed with enough power to kill both warriors many times over, incinerated their bodies and sent them to the next dimension. When the light from the explosion faded and the smoke cleared, there was nothing left of the two Ginyu Force members.

"I'll stay here," Raditz said. "You go back to where you first ran into Burter and watch for Frieza. If you see any soldiers kill them."

With a curt nod, Piccolo levitated off the ground and flew back the way he had come to take his post. He could feel the ki of many soldiers in the area, so he would be kept busy while he waited for Frieza to land.

…

Tien watched from above for a few minutes as Recoome rampaged through the city, presumably in search of the saiyan prince and his bodyguard. He seemed to lack discernment, killing anyone who got in his way regardless of alliance. Both Frieza's soldiers and earthlings were killed as he destroyed buildings, overturned cars, and blasted crowds. Figuring he had seen enough, Tien landed a few yards behind the giant. He raised his hands in front of his chest, his fingers forming a triangle.

'Might as well start with the big guns,' he thought as he started gathering energy for his tri-beam technique. He was about ready to fire when Recoome suddenly turned around, a blinding beam of energy shooting out of his mouth straight at him. Losing focus, Tien lost the energy he had summoned as he jumped out of the way of the energy blast.

"Thought you could sneak up on me, did you?" Recoome asked, his voice nearly lost in the roaring explosion that must have destroyed half the city. He reached up, tapping his scouter with his finger. "Lucky for me my scouter detected your energy."

Breathing heavily, more from surprise than anything, Tien looked over his shoulder at the destruction, then turned back to his large adversary. He was easily as tall and bulky as Nappa, maybe even bigger. 'Well, he might be big,' he thought, 'but he's not all that strong if that's the worst he can do. I can take him.'

Tien slid his foot back and raised his arms in his defensive stance, facing off against Recoome. Considering he was in the middle of a city, he wanted to get the fight done with as quickly as possible to avoid more civilian deaths. They were already having a hard enough time escaping the lower-ranking soldiers of Frieza's army. If he were to defeat Recoome fast, then he would be free to take out the soldiers and protect the earthlings.

"So, three-eyes, you think you have what it takes to defeat me?" Recoome stood up straight, laughing. He struck a series of ridiculous poses that made Tien think first of a ballerina, then the women in Master Roshi's magazines. "My name is Recoome, it rhymes with doom, and you'll be hurting all too soon!"

Staring blankly at the large warrior as he finished posing, Tien was almost caught off-guard when Recoome launched an attack on him. Barely dodging the beam of ki, Tien back-flipped and kicked off the side of a building to close the distance between himself and his opponent. He was about to punch Recoome when he was caught by the giant oaf and thrown into another building. It crumbled around him, but he was able to erect a shield of ki around himself before it could hurt him. Once he was sure the rubble had settled, he burst out of the wreckage and fired a dodon ray at the unsuspecting Recoome.

Though it made a direct hit, Recoome hardly felt it, but it was enough to gain his attention. He whirled around to face off against Tien, slightly intrigued when he saw the earthling fighter with only a few scratches from the initial impact with the building. Grinning stupidly, he rushed forward to start close hand-to-hand combat. Tien was, at first, surprised at Recoome's speed, having guessed he would be slower due to his bulkiness. He soon dismissed that assumption, feeling foolish for having made it in the first place when he knew Raditz and Nappa, also very bulky fighters, were extremely quick and agile.

Tien caught one of Recoome's fists and spun around, throwing the alien over his shoulder. He landed hard on the ground, slightly stunned. While he was down, Tien again formed a triangle with his fingers and quickly powered up his tri-beam, firing it this time before Recoome could move out of the way or block with a counterattack. It wasn't powerful enough to do any significant damage, but it knocked the wind out of the Ginyu member. Tien knelt down and grabbed his foot, then started spinning around and around before releasing Recoome, hurling him into another crumbling building.

While Recoome was in there, Tien took to the air and started powering up a stronger tri-beam, determined to end the fight soon so he could start fighting off the weaker soldiers swarming through the city. He could see many of them from his current vantage point, and he was surprised they weren't firing at him given his vulnerability in the air. He figured they knew better than to get involved in a fight where the Ginyu Force was concerned. At least he wouldn't have to worry about any attacks from behind.

By the time Recoome emerged from the fallen building, Tien had his attack powered up and ready to release. As soon as he saw the tuft of orange hair, Tien fired his attack, hitting Recoome head-on. The Ginyu was knocked back several feet, his armor now broken and falling off his body. Tien cursed when he saw that it had protected his opponent from any severe injury. On the bright side, the armor was now useless as it failed to cover any vital organs. Another blow like that and Recoome would be unlikely to live through it.

While Recoome staggered back to his feet, stumbling over cement blocks and support beams, Tien started gathering energy for another attack like the last. He was slightly winded from the amount of ki he poured into it, but he was still far from tiring and had plenty of energy to spare. Taking aim at the warrior who was weaving back and forth on his feet, Tien shouted, "Tri-Beam cannon!"

There was a bright flash of light, and this time when it dimmed, there was no Recoome to be seen. Tien sensed for his ki, thinking he maybe managed to dodge and hide somewhere, but he felt no strong ki aside from the other soldiers. Recoome was either dead or dying; either way, he was no longer a threat and could be dealt with later if need be. Right now, Tien needed to help kill off Frieza's soldiers in the area and watch for the mother ship. He dropped down to the ground and ran to the nearest pocket of alien soldiers and started killing them quickly and mercilessly.

…

Goku felt the last of the high ki he sensed earlier fade as he caught Ginyu's fist and twisted his arm into a submission hold. "I think all your friends are dead."

"Friends?" Ginyu spat. "You mean my men? They can't be dead! We're the Ginyu Force! No one has ever defeated us." He screamed as Goku twisted his arm more.

"You seem to be losing now." Goku kicked Ginyu in the chest when he crumpled to his knees. Normally he didn't like fighting so ruthlessly, but Vegeta's words echoed in his mind whenever he considered showing mercy to the purple creature. These men were evil in the purest sense. They enjoyed wreaking havoc and taking lives. They weren't going to reform, and if he had the chance to rid the universe of their darkness, he should take it. Killing really didn't set well with him; he much preferred defeating an opponent and letting him live to fight again another day. Still, this fight was different, so he had to disregard his normal values.

"Losing?" Ginyu gasped. "I'm just – just getting warmed up."

Goku released Ginyu's arm and kicked him in the face. Ginyu fell to the ground, barely able to catch himself before his face hit the dirt. "You can't win. You should leave now while you still have the chance."

Ginyu turned to look up at the saiyan, hatred burning in his eyes. "I will not give up!"

Frowning, Goku kicked him again, this time sending him flying through the air. He landed on the ground hard. With a groan he rolled over onto his back, spitting out a glob of blood. Goku slowly approached him, ready to block any attacks. He hesitated when Ginyu started laughing, intermittently coughing and choking.

"You – you think you've defeat – defeated me?" Ginyu pushed himself up to his elbows, panting heavily. "You're strong, but – but it's not always the – the strongest who wins."

"I know that." Goku cupped his hands at his side and started collecting energy for his trademark attack, ready to be done with the fight. There was death and destruction all around him at the hands of Frieza's men, and he needed to stop them before more innocent lives were taken. There was no time to fool around with Captain Ginyu any longer.

Ginyu sat up and, having finally caught his breath, started preparing himself for his greatest technique. He was fighting an incredible opponent, someone with unbelievable strength and speed. Imagine what he could do with a body with such abilities! Focusing on his essence, he readied himself for the moment when he could make the switch.

Goku widened his stance as the glowing ball of blue ki in his hands rapidly increased in size. "Ka…me…ha…"

"Change now!"

"Me…ha!" Goku thrust his hands forward, releasing his wave of ki as Ginyu abandoned his body. Incorporeal, he had no defense against the surge of energy that overtook him, forcing him back into his body that was then destroyed by the powerful beam. He screamed as his body disintegrated in the blast.

When the smoke and dust cleared, Goku looked around, seeing no signs of the captain of the Ginyu Force. He shook his head, feeling bile rising in his throat when he realized he actually killed someone. It just wasn't in his nature to be so merciless. Didn't everyone deserve a second chance? Pushing that thought aside, he turned his attention to the other soldiers. Earth's military was doing an outstanding job of holding them off with the weaponry Bulma designed, but they were being overpowered and humans were being killed by the hundreds. He would watch for Frieza, but in the meantime he needed to take care of the so-called pawns.

…

Bulma saw some of the tension in Vegeta's body lessen as he breathed a small, quiet sigh. Sitting next to him on the edge of the Lookout, she reached over and rubbed his back soothingly. "What's going on down there? Anything happen?"

He nodded. "They killed them. The Ginyu Force is dead."

She smiled weakly. It seemed strange to her to feel relief, even joy at the expense of another living creature. Celebrating death was not one of her more common habits, but in this case she felt justified. "Will Frieza know?"

"Probably." Vegeta sighed again, looking up at the sky above. It was growing dark in their part of the world, the stars standing out in the indigo sky. "He won't be happy about that."

"I guess not." Bulma leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. Her free hand moved to his lap, holding one of his large, calloused hands.

Vegeta kissed her temple, deeply inhaling her sweet scent. "He'll be coming soon along with the rest of his army. Remember everything I told you, woman."

When she nodded, his tail curled around her waist, holding her close to him. Truthfully, he wished that he could have been the one to kill the Ginyu Force. He could have done in single-handedly, but he had to reserve his energy for the real fight. He wasn't even sure if he would be the one to kill Dodoria and Zarbon; as much as he wanted to exact personal revenge, he couldn't afford to waste energy or allow himself to be distracted from the real goal: killing Frieza. This was what he had been waiting for his entire life. This was the very reason he forced himself to go on living when his life seemed so pointless. And this woman, his woman, was the reason he couldn't fail.

_A/N: I definitely had fun writing this chapter... the Ginyu Force is so absurd. I'm watching some episodes of DBZ as research before writing chapter 67, which is being more problematic than I thought it would be. Still, it will get done, I promise._

_As for reviews... I really want to tell you how they're going to defeat Frieza, but that would spoil the surprise. As for the Buu saga, I have something in mind. And am I a boy or a girl? I prefer to keep that anonymous. If you can't tell through my writing, I feel like I've done a good job._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	65. Enter Frieza

Enter Frieza

Goku jumped high into the air to avoid the ki beams and the blasts from the soldiers' arm cannons. They had him surrounded, so it wasn't a surprise when they ended up shooting each other when their target in the middle suddenly disappeared. He landed in the middle of a circle of crumpled, burned bodies, looking around for more of Frieza's soldiers to fight. Bodies – both alien and human – littered the streets; buildings were burning and falling and the sounds and smells of terror filled the air. But above all the sensations around him, Goku was focused on the immense power level still outside the atmosphere. He was beginning to wonder how long Frieza planned on waiting before making his grand entrance.

Across the world he could feel other ki, the energy signals of his friends. They were flaring as they engaged in battle, probably taking on the army as he was. How many soldiers landed already? Vegeta said the pawns were sent before the Ginyu Force, but were there others? Others with power levels somewhere between these 'pawns' and the so-called elite squadron? His expression turned grim when he remembered the brief glimpse into Vegeta's memory, the pink monster who took obvious pleasure in causing unbearable pain. Yes, there were others, more powerful than these, but they would be no real challenge.

Standing in the middle of a deserted street, Goku turned when he heard a battle cry as a troop of soldiers came running toward him, aiming at him with their arm cannons. Without missing a beat he picked up a car that was rolled over on its side and threw it at them, making a direct hit. He wasn't sure that was enough to kill them, or even knock them out, but it kept them off his heels for now and away from any earthlings that might still be alive in the area. With a goofy grin, he rubbed the back of his head and started walking down the street, hoping to find more soldiers to fight while he waited for the stronger members of the tyrant's army to come.

…

Zarbon strode into the throne room where Frieza was waiting for a report on the ongoing invasion of 1076XR. He knelt before his master, waiting for acknowledgement with anxious anticipation. The news he had for the tyrant was not good news, and he was hoping that his status as Frieza's right-hand man would be enough to save him from punishment for being the unfortunate messenger.

"What news do you have of the Ginyu Force?" Frieza asked, his voice like ice freezing the air in the room.

The green-skinned man cleared his throat before reporting, "We have been unable to contact them, Lord Frieza. Captain Ginyu has not sent a transmission since landing. Scans of the planet show there are several high power levels that were in the same vicinity as the Ginyu Force. They are presumed dead."

The glass of wine in Frieza's hand stilled. "What?"

Zarbon gulped audibly before answering. "They may still be alive, but we haven't been able to contact them. Perhaps there is something wrong with their scouters, or –"

"Silence!" Frieza threw his glass of wine across the room, the shattering glass piercing the unsettling quiet that ensued. "What do you mean they're dead? Idiots! Obviously I'll have to find Vegeta myself. Zarbon, we will land immediately."

Standing, Zarbon watched as Frieza turned his throne to face the window behind overlooking the planet that would be space dust soon enough. Bowing, though he knew Frieza couldn't see him, he turned and hurried out of the throne room to relay the orders to land to the soldiers in the control room.

…

Krillin sat on the edge of the Lookout several feet from Vegeta and Bulma, carefully averting his eyes from them. He folded his hands in his lap, wringing them as he focused on the power that had to belong to Frieza, the being they were somehow supposed to fight and defeat. Sighing, he rubbed his head with one hand, the other balling his gi in his fist. Sweat dribbled down the back of his neck. So much for bravery. Who was he fooling? He was terrified.

"So, uh," he mumbled, hoping the others would hear him without being too intrusive, "what happens if – if we lose? Or what if – what if Frieza – you said he destroys planets. What if he does that instead of, you know, coming here to uh, to find you?"

Vegeta scowled at the bald man, wanting to ignore his question. Unfortunately, he did have a valid point. More to reassure himself than anyone else, he replied, "It's too impersonal. He wants to single me out, torture, and kill me."

"You're sure about that?" Krillin asked timidly.

This time he was answered with a growl, but it stopped once Vegeta felt Bulma kissing along his jaw. For the briefest moment Vegeta forgot the impending peril, lost in pleasure as his chosen mate consoled him. He pulled her onto his lap facing him but frowned when he felt her velvety tongue gliding over his bottom lip.

"Woman," he purred, eyes shifting over to the bald earthling, "now is not the—"

"—Time, I know. But I don't care." Bulma smiled, kissing him. She pulled back and looked at him seriously. "You know you're going to kill him. There's nothing to worry about. He's not going to get you and he's not going to destroy Earth."

"Hn."

She quirked an eyebrow. "You _reek_ of confidence."

Krillin jumped to his feet. "Hey, I hate to ruin the moment, but do you feel that? He's moving. Is he landing?"

Vegeta looked up in the direction Krillin was pointing, thwarting Bulma's attempt to plant another kiss on his lips. His brows knit as he concentrated on the ki. It moved slowly at first, then began descending rapidly. Definitely landing. It was hard to pinpoint the exact location; Frieza's power was so enormous it felt like it was everywhere at once. He would have to wait for the signal from one of the others – assuming he could feel their comparatively low ki at all.

…

Raditz punched a hole through another soldier's armor, his fist digging into its flesh. He retracted his hand, a spurt of blood coming with it. The soldier's lifeless body fell to the ground amidst a pile of other dead bodies. Raditz shook his hand, drops of blood flying off. He looked up at the sky when he felt the huge power moving over where he was stationed. It wasn't likely to stop there, coming down more at an angle before landing. Hastily he searched for the ki signatures of his allies, trying to determine who would be the closest to the landing spot.

His frown eased when he felt Goku's ki near where he believed the ship would touch down. Reaching out with his mind, he spoke through his mental link to his brother. _"Kakarrot!"_

_ "Raditz? That you?"_

_ "Yeah, it's me. You feel him moving? I think he's going to land close to you. If I'm guessing right, he'll be near Central City. Get over there and keep an eye on things before Vegeta gets there. I'm on my way."_

_ "I'm on it. Does he know?"_

_ "Not sure. You remember the signal? Use it if you see Frieza's ship so everyone knows where he is." _Raditz cut off the mental link and fired a narrow beam of ki that pierced through three soldiers, instantly killing them, before taking off toward Central City. He didn't intend to get involved in the fight with Frieza, for that was Vegeta's battle, but if he had the chance to get vengeance on some of the other soldiers who flocked around the lizard, he would take it.

Raditz flew as fast as he could without raising his ki higher than the majority of Frieza's soldiers who were already on the planet. Stronger ones were going to be coming soon, but until they did, he didn't want anyone's scouters to pick up on his power level. As he flew, he fired ki blasts at groups of alien soldiers when he saw them, but for the most part he was only interested in getting to Frieza. He sped up when he felt Goku's ki flare three times in rapid succession. Hopefully his brother would stay away long enough for him to get there.

…

Frieza smirked when he felt his ship touch down. It had been a while since he felt solid ground under him, not that he felt it now. In his hovering throne, he left his throne room and made his way through the corridors of his ship on the way to the main hatch, his soldiers flanking him. Zarbon and Dodoria walked on either side of him, leading the troops to continue the purge of the planet while he went on a solo mission to find his missing monkeys.

The hatch was already open by the time he reached it, bright daylight streaming in. Outside he could see tall buildings, some wrecked, and the air smelled like rotting corpses, burnt flesh, and the rank stench of fear. All the scents of a purge; his smirk broadened into a malicious grin as he descended down the hatch, taking in the full view of the partially ruined city. Around him he saw more of his soldiers still killing, causing unnecessary destruction, and fighting amongst themselves over women and edible carnage. They were pathetic, really, but he didn't require his soldiers to be big on brains or taste. All he cared about was their willingness to kill without question or hesitation. So far it appeared they were doing a good job.

"Zarbon."

"Yes, my lord?"

"Send orders for the second-class soldiers to move in. It would seem many of the third-classes have been killed by these peasants. I want them all dead."

"As you command, Lord. Any further orders?"

Frieza rapped his black nails against the armrest of his throne. "Yes. If anyone finds Vegeta, report directly to me immediately. I want him alive so that _I_ can kill him."

"Of course, Lord Frieza. I will send the orders immediately." Zarbon turned on his heel to go back to the control room of the ship where he could send a transmission to every soldier at once. His cape billowed behind him as he stalked through the ship corridors, eager to send the orders and return to his master's side and begin killing. Typically he did not enjoy getting his hands dirty in purges of such weak, useless planets as this, but knowing that for some bizarre reason Vegeta valued this planet made the thought of killing helpless worms much more appealing. His cold, thin lips turned up in a cruel smile as he entered the control room. Anything to cause the monkey prince pain was well worth the trouble.

…

Goku crouched down on the roof of a nearby building, watching the ship below. Not long after it landed the hatch opened and some grunt soldiers emerged, though they didn't stray far from the ship. It looked more like they were staking out the general area, making sure there was no hostile welcoming committee courtesy of the planet they came to invade. He crept closer to the edge of the roof, taking the chance of someone looking up and catching a glimpse of him. He wanted to see Frieza as soon as he showed himself, his imagination dreaming up an enormous, ferocious beast to fit the monstrous power level he could feel coming from somewhere within the ship.

He was surprised, then, when he saw the tiny creature who left the ship sitting in some sort of small, hovering vehicle. Not only was he diminutive, but the fact that he relied on a piece of equipment to get around was puzzling. Wasn't he supposed to be the most powerful being in the universe? At least, that's apparently what he boasted about himself. He watched as one of the men standing at Frieza's right side turned and went back inside while the rest of the soldiers gathered behind him spread out and dispersed, probably to go kill anyone they could find who managed to survive so far.

Now that he saw the tiny alien tyrant, any fear he may have had dissipated. Grinning to himself, he considered ignoring the plan and going after Frieza himself. Vegeta hadn't come yet and it looked like the guys down there were getting ready to cause trouble, so why shouldn't he step in and stop them?

"Don't even think about it."

Goku practically jumped off the roof when he heard someone behind him. He sighed with relief when he saw that it was Raditz, who had just scaled the building on the other side to avoid raising his ki and gaining the attention of Frieza's soldiers. He crawled over to the edge of the roof where Goku was keeping an eye on Frieza and his men and looked down at them, his lip curling in contempt. The first thing to catch his attention, aside from the massive spaceship, was the hot pink blob of flesh Dodoria standing next to Frieza's throne. What a disgusting creature.

"Is Vegeta coming?" Goku whispered.

Raditz shrugged, inching forward a little to see better. From his improved vantage point, he was able to see the other soldiers who had already moved away from the ship, arm cannons raised to fire in a flash if they saw or heard any life. Raditz backed away from the edge again and turned to his brother. "I think we can draw some of them away if we raise our ki a little. High enough that they won't mistake us for low-ranking soldiers, but not high enough to be deemed a threat big enough for Frieza or his lapdogs to go after. We don't want to take them on yet."

Goku pouted a little. "Why not? We could take them."

"We _could_," Raditz agreed, rolling his eyes, "But we don't want Frieza coming after us. Not until Vegeta gets here."

"Oh fine."

"Relax, brother. We'll get some good fights."

"I doubt it. Frieza's the only strong one." Goku peeked over the edge again, his eyes shifting back and forth. The longer he had to wait the more he wanted to go fight, but having his brother next to him made it easier to restrain himself. He might not have been the smartest person, but he knew the importance of a good battle tactic, so he was willing to go with Vegeta's plan even if it meant relinquishing the best challenge. Besides, Vegeta might not be able to handle him alone, so he might be able to take a crack at him.

Raditz groaned when some of the stronger soldiers took to the air to leave the city. If Vegeta didn't hurry up and get here soon, Frieza might go somewhere else and then they would have to try tracking him without making themselves known. If that wasn't frustrating enough, he felt higher power levels falling from the sky all over the planet. So the next wave of the invasion had begun. Not unexpected, but the situation was definitely heating up. Evading detection was going to get harder with more soldiers on the planet, and now it wouldn't be as easy to conceal their true power when they had to raise it above the higher ranking soldiers.

Goku frowned when he saw the soldiers leaving the city where he couldn't keep an eye on them and prevent them from hurting any innocent people. "Where are they going?"

"Where do you think? They're going to keep purging the planet until all the humans are dead."

"They can't do that!"

"Be quiet!" Raditz hissed, shaking his head in exasperation. "They can and they will. We'll stop them. I think I saw a group of them head that way. You go after them."

Goku looked to the left where Raditz was pointing and nodded. "Right. What about you?"

"I'll try to pick off some of the others, but I'll stick around here to keep watch."

"Okay!" Goku grinned, giggling excitedly as he crawled over to the edge of the roof to their left, looking around before leaping to the next building and continuing on that way. The farther he got from Frieza's ship, the less cautious he was about keeping himself hidden from the soldiers. By the time he reached the outskirts of the city, he was actively trying to gain their attention. Catching sight of one of the stronger soldiers he saw back at the ship, he fired a ki blast at him. The soldier crashed into the wall of a building, stunned from the sudden attack.

Goku flew toward him and fired another blast of ki before he reached him. He was slightly surprised when the soldier dodged the attack and readied his own ball of ki with practiced ease. He was a purple alien with scaly skin and whiskers like a catfish sprouting from his face. Ugly was the first word that came to mind when Goku tried to think of a way to describe him.

The purple soldier sneered at him once he gathered his wits. "A saiyan? They're all supposed to be dead."

Shrugging, Goku quipped, "Guess Frieza missed me."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say as the soldier started attacking Goku with wild fury, throwing a multitude of ki blasts punctuated with attempts to land solid blows. But Goku was too fast, easily dodging and blocking everything thrown at him. It wasn't long before his opponent had thoroughly worn himself out. He paused, panting heavily, enraged by his own inability to land a single direct hit on a _saiyan_. A monkey! They were all weaklings!

"Are you done playing around now?" Goku asked, cocking his head to the side as he folded his arms over his chest.

"Playing – playing around?"

"Yeah." Goku rubbed the back of his neck and moved closer to his opponent. "Are you going to fight for real now?"

Raditz snorted when he felt his brother's ki rising enough to stay a step ahead of the soldier he was fighting. If he wasn't mistaken, judging by the power level it was Cui. He smirked, happy with the fact that that purple fish-face was finally going to get what he had coming. There weren't really any soldiers who liked the saiyans, but Cui was one of those who was particularly adamant about showing his hatred for their species.

He returned to his post on the top of the building overlooking Frieza's ship after killing a few other soldiers. 'Where the hell is Vegeta?' he wondered. It had been at least half an hour since Frieza's ship touched down, but he still didn't feel the prince approaching. Maybe he got held up somewhere else fighting some of the other soldiers, or maybe the Lookout was farther away from Central City than he thought. Either way, Vegeta wasn't there yet, and, from what he could tell, Frieza was rapidly losing patience.

The saiyan tried to open his link with the prince, but it was as if Vegeta had purposely shut it down, making all communication impossible for the time being. Frustrated, he pressed his lips together firmly to keep himself from uttering a colorful stream of curses. Vegeta was probably avoiding distraction, or possibly keeping their minds disconnected so no emotions would cross over. Proud as he was, he certainly wouldn't want his subjects to know how fearful he truly was of Frieza, even if he had every reason to be afraid. Whatever the reason, Raditz could do nothing but wait for his arrival.

…

Frieza turned his head to the right when his scouter indicated there was a higher-than-average power level. Not much greater than his best soldiers, but still significant enough to be of interest. "Dodoria."

"Yes, Lord Frieza?"

"Go investigate the high power level." His eyes shifted in the direction of the energy signal. "Immediately."

"As you command, Lord Frieza." Dodoria bowed hastily before taking off toward Goku and Cui's rather one-sided fight.

…

Raditz smacked his forehead when he saw that his younger brother managed to gain Frieza's attention. While he had no doubt that Goku could handle Dodoria and Cui with no problems, he wasn't willing to let Dodoria get away. Cui he could let Goku have, but not Dodoria. He had a personal vendetta against that one. Dodoria was strong enough and close enough to Frieza that over the years he was able to get away with just about anything when it came to tormenting the saiyans.

Careful to keep his ki suppressed, Raditz trailed after Dodoria, intending to cut him off before he ever got the chance to interfere in Goku's fight. Maybe taking out Frieza's left-hand man wasn't the best way to conceal his presence, but it would be worth it. When they were far enough from the ship and still a fair distance from Goku, Raditz passed Dodoria and stopped in front of him, arms held out at his sides to prevent him from veering around him to the right or left.

Dodoria was barely able to stop himself before crashing into Raditz. When he saw who was in his way, his eyes first widened with surprise, then narrowed with hatred. "Raditz? I thought you were dead."

Raditz shrugged casually. "Seems everyone thinks that. Sorry to disappoint." He smirked, taking his fighting stance. "But to be fair, why don't I give you the chance to make it true?"

The pink alien didn't need to be asked twice. He had no orders to keep Raditz alive since he was already presumed dead, so there was no chance of him getting in trouble for killing him, something he had wanted to do for an incredibly long time. Taking his own stance, he gave a wide, toothy grin as he raised his ki to reach his maximum power, a measly 22,000. Surrounded by a burning aura, he leaped forward at the saiyan, but he passed through an afterimage.

Raditz reappeared right behind him and, with a single back kick, sent his obese adversary spinning into a nearby brick building that toppled down on him. Raditz kept his power in check, only raising it high enough to hurt Dodoria for periods of such short duration that scouters would be unlikely to pick up on it. He was slightly disappointed that fighting Dodoria wasn't even going to prove a challenge, but at least he had the satisfaction of killing the miserable scum.

It wasn't long before Dodoria erupted from the rubble, fury emanating from him in palpable waves. Not stopping to consider he might be outmatched given the ease with which he was taken off-guard before, he lunged forward again, fist raised to strike the long-haired saiyan. This time, Raditz easily sidestepped his advance, held his arm out, and clotheslined the fat warrior. While Dodoria was still dazed, Raditz clenched his fists together and brought them down on the other fighter's back, forcing him down to the ground. Then, before Dodoria could get up, Raditz dropped from the sky, using his ki to add speed to his descent, bringing his heel down on the side of Dodoria's head. There was a sickening crunching noise as his skull collapsed and blood and brain spattered from the wound.

Shaking the bits of brain off his boot, Raditz laughed, "I gave you the chance. Didn't say odds were in your favor." He turned back toward the spaceship and crossed his arms over his chest. There were no other soldiers around, save the one Goku was still toying with. "Guess Frieza's going to be kept waiting for you to report back, huh, lard-ass?"

…

Waiting was not one of Frieza's favorite pastimes. Actually, it ranked among his least favorite things to do, and as far as he was concerned, he had already done plenty of waiting in relation to Vegeta. Snarling, he pushed the button on his scouter, but each time he tried to locate the saiyans' power levels, all his scouter could find was his soldiers. Each time he failed to find his pet his frustration doubled.

"Where is he?" Frieza tried again to find the power level of the monkey prince, but again he found nothing other than the power levels of his soldiers. His eyes narrowed. "So, he wants to play hide-and-seek. Fine. I've waited this long, I'll wait a little longer. He'll come to me. Besides, it's not like I'm getting any older. Oh, that was a good one! I crack myself up." He grew more relaxed as he laughed at his own joke.

…

Vegeta stood at the edge of the Lookout looking down, his tail twitching agitatedly behind him. He felt the others coming up behind him, but he didn't turn. His fists clenched tighter. He'd sensed the signal when Kakarrot gave it, but he still hadn't worked up the gumption to go to Central City and confront Frieza. Fear wasn't the issue so much as disbelief. What he felt didn't make sense; he was actually _stronger_ than Frieza. Many times stronger. He shook his head. It was unreal, there had to be a mistake. When he felt the power before, enormous as it was, he thought it would feel greater when Frieza arrived on Earth, having simply figured distance made him unable to sense the fullness of the lizard's power. Well, even if he was stronger at the moment, he was still cautious. He refused to believe it was so easy. Frieza had to be stronger; he just wasn't showing his true strength yet.

Bulma stood behind him and laid her hand on his shoulder, frowning when he flinched away. "Vegeta? What are you waiting for?"

"Why isn't he moving?"

"Who?"

He didn't answer as he started pacing, trying to figure out why Frieza was staying in one place. When he felt his power moving, preparing to land, he was about to go as soon as he got the signal. Then he received the signal, and he was going to leave, but something stopped him. Maybe it was the disbelief, maybe it was uncertainty, but for some reason he couldn't get himself to leave the Lookout just yet. After several minutes passed and he still hadn't sensed Frieza moving, he became suspicious. Would he really send his foot soldiers to search for him? Or was he waiting for something else? A low growl rumbled in his chest as he scowled down at the Earth.

Nappa stepped closer to his prince, brows furrowing with concern as he wondered the same thing. It was unlike Frieza to wait around when he wanted something. While he might always be accompanied at least by his lapdogs Zarbon and Dodoria, he wasn't above going out and searching for the object of his desire. If anything, he didn't like anyone else getting their hands on his prize.

Keeping his distance from the saiyans, Krillin commented, "I expected his arrival to be a little more dramatic."

Gohan laughed a little. "I know what you mean."

Krillin grinned, playfully elbowing the boy who was already almost as tall as him. "Maybe this whole thing was just blown out of proportion. What do you think? This Frieza guy might not be so tough after all."

Vegeta rounded on him, teeth bared in a furious snarl. "You know nothing about what he is capable of!"

Backing off a little, Krillin shrugged. "Well, sorry, but haven't you noticed you're all stronger than him?"

The saiyan prince turned away again to resume pacing, his tail now flicking more noticeably with his growing irritation. "It's not his full power. There's rumors…" he trailed off, muttering to himself under his breath.

Nappa sighed, rubbing his forehead. "You don't think it's true, do you?"

Vegeta paused, clenching and unclenching his fists. "It is. I know it is."

"What is?" Gohan asked.

"Frieza has different forms. Stronger ones." Nappa was having a hard time not pacing along with Vegeta. The tip of his tail was flicking against his hip.

"Forms?"

"He's waiting for me," Vegeta concluded. "That bastard is going to make me come to him."

"Is that so bad?" Bulma asked.

"It means I'll be fighting on his terms." Vegeta's tail slashed through the air before wrapping snugly around his waist.

"Oh."

"So what do we do, Vegeta?" Nappa asked.

Vegeta sighed and raked his hand through his flame of hair. He was a patient man most of the time, but this was a fight he had been waiting too long to have and he didn't feel like playing the waiting game with Frieza. Even if he could win, the apprehension would eat away at his courage. He stopped his pacing and looked over the edge of the Lookout.

"I'll go. Baldy, go kill any soldiers you find. Nappa, stay here with the brat and the doll thing. Make sure no one finds this place and lives."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Krillin asked. He swallowed hard when the prince shot him a cold glare before stepping off the Lookout. "Okay, I can do this."

"Don't worry, Krillin," Gohan said, "You'll be fine."

"Thanks, kid." Krillin ruffled Gohan's messy hair and grinned before holding his hand up in the victory sign. "See you all later." With that, he jumped off the Lookout and headed to an area of the world where he didn't feel any of his friends fighting. Earth's military might be faring well enough against Frieza's army, but it wouldn't hurt to lend a hand, especially now that stronger soldiers were landing.

Vegeta allowed himself to fall, only stopping himself when he was a foot from the ground below the Lookout. Keeping his ki low, he turned west and flew toward the city where Frieza was lying in wait. All around him he could feel the power of the tyrant's army, and more soldiers were still coming. The weapons Bulma created wouldn't be much help against these soldiers; they were stronger and more cunning. Still weak compared to himself and the other earthling warriors, but they had power in numbers. He didn't really care if they got themselves killed, but for Bulma's sake he hoped they lived through the battle.

When he felt a large group of soldiers up ahead he repressed his ki further to avoid detection as he flew past. He couldn't afford getting sidetracked and getting into a fight when he had more important matters to attend to: namely, finding and killing Frieza. He cringed when he flew over a completely decimated city, the smoke from the burning buildings still curling in the air. To think he used to be like these monsters, tearing a planet apart, wreaking havoc, killing thousands, millions… He snarled, speeding up his flight to get to Central City before Frieza ran out of patience and went on the move.

He was growing frustrated having to fly painfully slowly to keep the scouters from picking up his ki signature. Over two hours passed before he saw the cityscape of Central City on the horizon. As with all the other cities he'd passed, there were thick columns of black smoke billowing up from the burning remains of civilization. Still holding his power in check, he flew lower to the ground, slightly increasing his speed until he was followed by a cloud of dust. Once he reached the outskirts of the city, he dropped to the ground and started toward the landing site on foot, darting behind piles of rubble, down narrow alleys, and through buildings. More than once he had to get past large groups of Frieza's men, but he had years of practice in moving stealthily through purged cities and remained unseen.

Sensing a particularly high ki around the corner of a building, he pressed himself against the wall, holding his breath and suppressing his ki as low as he could. The footsteps of the person were all he could hear aside from the pulse rushing in his ears. It was only a few seconds in reality, but it felt like hours before the person rounded the corner. When he did, Vegeta nearly took off his head with a swift kick.

"Whoa! Vegeta, what the hell?"

"Raditz?" Vegeta hissed, "What are you doing here?"

Raditz brushed his hair back over his shoulder after spinning out of the way of his prince's kick. "I _was_ killing Frieza's soldiers. He's keeping the stronger ones close by. I think he's hoping to find you by forcing you to raise your power to defeat them."

Vegeta snorted. "And you? How have you avoided being found so far?"

The long-haired saiyan shrugged nonchalantly. "I kill anyone who sees me."

"That won't draw suspicion."

"Either way, I keep moving. No one's going to find me unless I want to be found."

"And your idiot brother? Where's he? I thought he was the one who gave the signal."

Raditz nodded, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was sneaking up from behind. Vigilance was his strongest defense against being forced to face Frieza. "He's around, somewhere. Taking on soldiers. I have to keep cleaning up after him since he won't kill them if he doesn't have to."

"Weakling." Vegeta growled a little. "Keep killing. Leave Frieza to me."

"Of course," Raditz muttered. He stepped aside, letting Vegeta pass. "Zarbon's still with him. I've already killed Dodoria."

Vegeta quirked an eyebrow, a smirk curling his lips. "The fat lard's dead?"

Raditz mirrored his smirk. "By my hand. Well, foot."

"At least it wasn't that idiot you call a brother." Vegeta peeked around the corner of the building. He could see Frieza's ship in the distance, apparently having crushed a building or two when he landed. There were many soldiers stationed around it, none of them too strong. Frieza and Zarbon weren't in sight, so they were probably inside the ship. "Find Kakarrot and draw the soldiers away. I don't have time for those weaklings."

"Yes, sir."

"After you kill them, find the others. Destroy every space pod. No one is getting off this planet, do you understand?"

"Got it." Raditz moved away from him, then jumped onto a fire escape of a nearby building and climbed up to the roof. From there, he had a clear view of the area and headed in the direction of Goku's ki.

Vegeta crouched down and waited for the soldiers to leave. It wasn't long before he felt the rising ki of Raditz and Goku. It worked like a charm as the soldiers' scouters came to life, indicating two extraordinarily high power levels on the other side of the city. Soon all the soldiers were flying off in that direction, abandoning their posts around the ship. He sensed a few more power levels in the ship aside from Frieza and Zarbon, probably technicians and medical personnel. Easy kills, insignificant.

He stood up and, rolling his shoulders back and lifting his chin, he started toward the large ship. Proudly he marched, quelling the fear rising in his gut. He heard Bulma's words running through his mind, over and over, reassuring him, strengthening him. He had the power to defeat Frieza, he had the strength to tear Frieza apart and make him suffer for everything he did to his race. It may have been the longest walk of his life, the walk toward his death or his freedom.

_A/N: I finally finished writing chapter 67, and now I'm trying to work out a few kinks in the outline of 68 so I can get started writing it. You know, everyone's theories on how Frieza's defeated and all the things that happen are really fantastic. It almost makes me want to write a bunch of alternate endings, seriously. And yeah, I did notice I'm getting close to 2000 reviews. Is it wrong for me to hope that I'll reach that? 'Cause I do. But really, that's up to my readers._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	66. Unexpected Threat

Unexpected Threat

Nappa came up behind Bulma and rested his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. It was a comforting gesture he learned during his stay on Earth and he hoped it would be effective in consoling the woman who was essentially the princess of his people. He didn't have to see her face to know she was crying as the scent of her tears filled the air around her. "He's going to win."

She nodded half-heartedly. For all her grandiose boasting and reassurances, she was honestly terrified for Vegeta. She didn't know the half of what Frieza did to him while he was away from Earth, but judging by his carefully hidden fear, she knew it was bad, far worse than anything she could ever imagine. Even if she believed Vegeta could defeat this – this demon, she was afraid that his own doubts, memories, and fears would interfere and keep him from performing at the top of his game. From what she understood, the tyrant would use any weakness to his advantage, and while Vegeta talked big and strutted around like the king of the universe, his ego was fragile, his temper was quick, and his past haunted him.

"I just wish we could help." Bulma sniffled, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. "I worry about him."

The old saiyan grunted as he put his arm around her shoulders and guided her away from the edge of the Lookout. He could understand her worry; he entertained many of the same concerns, though he didn't express them. She resisted a little as he led her around the platform, no destination in mind. Really he just wanted to keep her busy, take her mind off the battle raging below.

"What if something happens—" She paused to clear her throat when her voice cracked. "I don't know what I'd do if something happens to him."

Nappa shrugged. Never good at the heart-to-heart conversations, he didn't know what to say to her, so he figured it would be better to just let her talk. He only half-listened as she continued spewing her worries and feelings since the majority of the time he could hardly empathize or didn't know what she was talking about anyway. His mind wandered until he reached the point of realizing the irony of his situation. Here he was, playing bodyguard because he was assigned to protect Bulma from Frieza, not unlike how he was assigned to protect Prince Vegeta from Frieza many years ago. But he couldn't protect his prince and now he was expected to protect his future princess. The last thing he ever wanted to do was fail at his job, so he hoped that no matter what happened, Frieza wouldn't find the Lookout.

"Nappa? Are you even listening?"

"What?"

"What if he's not strong enough? What if Frieza kills him? What if I can't get to Namek or they don't have dragon balls or they don't work or – or –"

"You need to trust Vegeta."

"Easier said than done," she grumbled, kicking her toe against the floor. She sighed, tilting her head back to look up at the sky. Vegeta was going to be okay. He had to be okay.

…

Vegeta came to a stop when he reached the open hatch of the ship. He raised his fists defensively as he inched forward, not sure if he should go inside or lure Frieza out. His eyes shifted around the area. Not the prime site for a battle of epic proportion, but it was more open than the ship. In the end, he decided keeping the fight outside would be to his advantage. That settled, he started raising his ki, slowly at first, then like an explosion flames of energy burst around him.

He was still powering up when Zarbon came running to the hatch, eyes wide with alarm as the power level reading continued increasing on his scouter until it exploded. He skidded to a halt when he saw who was standing at the entrance of the ship, disbelief clearly written on his face. "V-Vegeta? There's no way!"

The saiyan smirked when he saw Zarbon's reaction to his power, relaxing a little. There was no need to push his ki higher for a confrontation with the green man. "Hello, Zarbon," he drawled.

Zarbon backpedaled a few steps when he saw the feral look in the saiyan's eyes. Before his scouter broke, it read Vegeta's power level at over 50,000. And, judging by the saiyan's confidence – though he was always irritatingly arrogant – and the blazing aura around his heavily muscled body, his power was still higher than that. He swallowed hard, clenching his hands into fists at his sides. "Lord Frieza isn't happy with you, monkey."

"Really?" Vegeta snorted. "I couldn't imagine why. If he's so displeased with me, why isn't he out here telling me so himself? Is he that much of a coward that he has to hide behind his lapdog?"

"He isn't hiding, you fool. Lord Frieza has more important matters to attend to."

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest. "Right, so I suppose you're telling me he came to Earth for a vacation?"

The plan had been for Zarbon to knock Vegeta out and bring him inside the ship to Frieza, but he was starting to think that wasn't going to be an easy task. He stepped forward, descending the ramp until he was standing in front of the saiyan prince, a sneer curling his lips. Knowing Vegeta was an expert at reading his opponents' body language, he forced himself to put on a show of unshaken confidence and fearlessness. "Come with me, Vegeta, and I won't be forced to hurt you, though I really wouldn't mind."

"I have a better idea," Vegeta said, raising his hand, palm facing Zarbon's chest. "You take this message to Frieza for me like the good little messenger you are." Before the other man could move, Vegeta fired a beam of ki through his chest. He was careful to aim where he could severely injure the amphibious alien without killing him – immediately.

Howling in pain, Zarbon pressed his hands against the gaping wound, his turquoise blood gushing out between his fingers. He staggered back a few steps before falling backwards and scrambling up the ramp into the ship. Vegeta laughed cruelly as he disappeared inside to go seek help from his master. As if he would find any mercy from Frieza. Only a minute passed before Vegeta felt Zarbon's fading ki suddenly disappear, no doubt his end met at the hands of the tyrant he served so faithfully for many years. Frieza's ki spiked with anger before it started moving toward the hatch where Vegeta was waiting, his heart hammering in his chest.

As he waited for the lizard to finally make his grand appearance, Vegeta continued powering up. His power, held steady at about 100,000 during his confrontation with Zarbon, rapidly doubled, then tripled and quadrupled. He was approaching 500,000 by the time Frieza showed himself, floating in his hovering throne with a furious snarl on his black lips. Vegeta's stomach twisted when he saw the lizard for the first time in over three years. He looked the same as he always did, with the feminine pink skin, black horns jutting from the sides of his head, dry black lips, and purple armor. He was a hideous creature to behold, his appearance made uglier by his evil demeanor.

Frieza looked down at the flame-haired saiyan with disdain. He hadn't changed much aside from the modifications made to his armor and his noticeably bulked up muscles. No, he was essentially the same physically, but there was something completely different about him. He wasn't trembling in fear, faking submission and reverence, and the obstinate defiance that always glinted in his eyes was more pronounced as he made no effort to hide it.

"Well, well," Frieza said when their eyes met, "there's my missing monkey. You realize what you did was treasonous. But, I'm willing to strike a deal. Pledge your undying allegiance to me and I will let you live."

Vegeta spat on the ground between them. "Shut up. You know that'll never happen."

Frieza sighed dramatically. "I had hoped you would change your mind." He shrugged, rising from his throne. "Though you have been nothing but disobedient since I took you in, I still care for you, but I will not tolerate this sedition. You do know the penalty for your little rebellion is death."

"Only if you can kill me before I kill you." Vegeta flared his ki again, raising it above Frieza's current level. He slid his foot back, lowering himself to his fighting stance, focusing his mind on the fight ahead.

Smirking, Frieza took a purely offensive stance. "Stupid monkey, you can't kill me. Even if you _were _strong enough, a nice little dragon on Namek granted me immortality."

Like a knife surprise and fear stabbed Vegeta's heart, but he remained calm on the outside, his expression betraying nothing to the lizard. It certainly was unexpected to be going up against an immortal enemy, and maybe now there really was no way to win, but he would not submit to Frieza, not even with his dying breath. Memories flashed through his mind of those he vowed to protect: the remnants of his race, his pack, his woman. Suddenly it didn't matter how pointless the battle would be; victory could not be achieved by ending Frieza's life, but it could be attained through living his last moments in freedom.

No longer in the mood for banter, Vegeta gathered ki in his right hand and hurled it at Frieza's chest, jumping out of the way of the explosion and collecting more ki for his next attack. When the smoke cleared, Frieza was still standing there, an expression of mixed surprise and amusement on his face. Vegeta was about to attack again when Frieza phased behind him and kicked him to the ground, landing on his back and wrapping his tail around his neck.

When he tried to squeeze the saiyan's neck, constricting his breathing, he was again surprised when Vegeta started laughing, quietly at first, but it grew until he was roaring with laughter. "You think you'll defeat me so easily, Frieza? Think again." Raising his hands to his throat, he dug his fingers painfully into the fleshy noose and yanked the tail away from his neck. Then, as he stood, he jerked the tail to his right, pulling Frieza with it before starting to swing the small alien around and around, finally releasing him into the side of his ship. While he was still dazed and slightly dizzy, Vegeta fired a strong beam of ki at him and phased over to him, kicking him in the head before he could recover.

"Why don't you transform, you pathetic freak?" the prince spat. "You're not a challenge to me, even if you are immortal!"

Picking himself up off the ground, Frieza glared at Vegeta for a moment before his lips turned up in a smirk. "So, you know about my transformations, hm? Fine then, consider yourself lucky to see the illustrious Lord Frieza in his true form, a sight none have lived to behold."

Vegeta rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "Cut the talk and do it already."

"I only transform after a countdown." Frieza took off his scouter and tossed it over to his throne, then rested his arms at his side as he concentrated on raising his power and morphing his body into the next form.

"You've got to be kidding me!"

Frieza smiled coyly, shrugging as he waited for the saiyan prince to give in to his ridiculous request. "I'm waiting."

Vegeta growled, the tip of his tail flicking erratically. "Fine! Ten-nine-eight-seven-six-five-four-three-two-one. Happy?"

"Elated." At first his muscles bulked up a small amount, but enough to break off his armor, leaving him bare. Vegeta's lip curled in disgust and goosebumps rose on his skin as he remembered the times he saw that pale, sickly-looking flesh before. He stepped back as Frieza's power surrounded him and gusted out like a shockwave, leveling half the city and nearly knocking the saiyan prince off his feet. He cackled maniacally as his power soared, his body growing along with it.

…

Krillin grinned, giving the victory sign to the pile of dead soldiers around him. Another village was cleared of Frieza's men, which meant it was time to move on and defend more innocent lives from the flood of invading aliens. He and Yamcha were working in the same general area, moving from town to town destroying Frieza's army. Countless lives had already been lost, but they were able to easily overpower the soldiers as most of them were pitifully weak by comparison and they were catching up fast on the line of destruction.

Heading west and into a thunderstorm, Krillin looked around for any signs of chaos that the army of aliens inevitably left behind. The area of the world he was in was undefended, as there were no military bases nearby. It wasn't much of a problem though, since there weren't many of Frieza's men there either, and the ones that were around traveled in large groups. That was why the destruction was not as widespread as it could have been. Still, they were wreaking havoc and taking lives and needed to be stopped quickly.

He slowed when he saw another small group of soldiers setting fire to a farmstead. The barn was already ablaze and the large family was being dragged out of the house by a variety of soldiers who looked like they came straight from the filming of a bad science fiction movie. Each of them wore arm cannons, indicating they were weaker soldiers, easy kills assuming they wouldn't use the humans as shields.

Krillin dropped out of the sky, and, before they could turn to see who was there, blasted half of them into oblivion. The rest, seeing their comrades falling, turned and backed away, aiming their cannons at him. They started firing, but Krillin was too fast for them as he ran away from the family. He easily outran the blasts of energy, circling around until he was behind the soldiers, then jumped and kicked one of the soldiers into all the others, making them fall like dominoes. Once they were on the ground, he blasted them all and took off again after he failed to sense any others around the farm.

While he was flying to the nearest village where he felt a few dozen soldiers, he met up with Yamcha, who was heading the same way. "Hey, Yamcha!"

"Krillin! How many have you gotten?" Yamcha grinned as he flew alongside his bald friend. "I haven't been counting, but I'd guess I've taken out a couple hundred."

Krillin shrugged. "I don't know, man. I haven't paid much attention. I just go where the action is."

"Tell me about it! This is great. I mean, not the killing, but it feels great to fight again, you know?"

They were still talking when they felt a tremendous surge in the ki they identified as Frieza. It didn't take long to double, leveling off after a couple minutes. The ki now dwarfed the power they assumed was Vegeta's, but after Frieza's power stabilized that, too, began to rise. Whistling when he felt the enormous power levels, Krillin turned to Yamcha and gestured with his head toward the source of the power. "Glad we're not in that one."

"You can say that again." Yamcha shook his head slowly. He opened his mouth to say something else, but then he felt the ki of several soldiers up ahead and descended to the ground. There were only a few soldiers, maybe a dozen, terrorizing a small village. It didn't take long for the two earthling warriors to take care of them all. Before they could take to the air to find another town to save, they were met by Raditz.

"Krillin, Yamcha!" he shouted as he landed on the ground a few feet from them. "We got orders from Vegeta to destroy any space pods you find. None of Frieza's men can get off the planet."

Krillin's eyebrows rose. "Why not? Don't we _want _them gone?"

"So they can go call for help?" Raditz snorted. "I don't think so. Kill them, destroy their pods. This ends here and now."

The human warriors exchanged a glance before turning back to the long-haired saiyan. Yamcha asked, "Where's Goku?"

"Finding Tien and Piccolo to give the same message. He headed north from Central City where Frieza and Vegeta are fighting." Raditz levitated off the ground and looked around the land, brows scrunching as he concentrated on all the ki he could feel. Most of Frieza's soldiers in the area had already been killed or left to find more inhabited locales.

Yamcha nodded, also levitating off the ground. "Guess we should get back to work."

"Right." Krillin jumped into the air and flew westward. "Let's go."

While Yamcha followed after the bald fighter, Raditz turned and went back the way they had come from to destroy all the space pods he could find. It was a boring job, and he would much rather be fighting even if the soldiers were pathetically weak, but it needed to be done. Sighing to himself as he flew, he started blasting each space pod he spotted until there were a myriad smoking remains of alien spacecraft across the countryside.

…

After they both powered up, Vegeta and Frieza exchanged a few blows, neither of them really gaining the upper hand. Frieza, now much larger, did not lose much in the way of speed, so he was able to dodge most of Vegeta's attacks. Vegeta, meanwhile, was as agile as ever, and being so much smaller than his opponent was able to evade nearly everything Frieza threw at him. Neither of them were tiring out as they flew through the city, effectively demolishing any building that was left standing after the initial invasion.

Finally, after what felt like hours of fighting but was in reality only a few minutes, Vegeta caught Frieza with a hard uppercut, then phased behind the tyrant with his hands clasped together, beating him down to the ground with a double axe handle. Frieza landed hard on the ground, but immediately jumped back to his feet and flew up to Vegeta, barely missing his chest with his curved, elongated horn. While the saiyan was distracted with avoiding being impaled, Frieza gathered ki in his right hand and threw it at him, blasting him into a pile of rubble that once stood as a tall skyscraper.

Frieza laughed after waiting a few seconds for any signs of life. He heard nothing and Vegeta didn't come crawling out of the wreckage, so he naturally assumed he won the battle without having to ascend past his second form. Not that he expected he would have to. His laughing ceased when the pile of broken cement, metal, and drywall exploded and Vegeta shot out of it, fury burning in his obsidian eyes. He charged toward Frieza, roaring as he raised his fists to strike, then phased out of sight. With ki collected in his hands, he reappeared several yards above Frieza and started raining ki blasts down at the tyrant; none of them hit the target, instead spreading around him and stopping mid-air. Once Frieza was entirely surrounded, Vegeta brought his hands together, directing all the orbs of ki inward. A huge, blinding explosion resulted as they simultaneously hit the lizard.

This time when the smoke cleared, Frieza was noticeably disgruntled, though he wasn't injured in any way Vegeta could see, much to his chagrin. Frieza's lip curled in a snarl as he clenched his hands into fists. "You'll have to do better than that, monkey!"

Vegeta felt sweat trickling down the back of his neck as he backed away from his former master. He was losing energy, having already spent a great deal on powerful attacks against Frieza. Frowning, he started raising his ki further, no longer concerned about conserving energy. It was obviously doing no good anyway. No more holding back. He grit his teeth as he pushed his ki higher, his energy erupting around him like blue fire.

Frieza watched for a minute before deciding he wouldn't be able to defeat Vegeta in his current form. He was once again surprised by Vegeta's power; while he had expected the saiyan prince to increase his power over the past two years, no doubt training constantly, he had no idea that he would be capable of such a dramatic increase. Already their power levels were over one million, but it seemed he was going to be forced to take on his third form, which would more than double his power again. In a way, he was curious to find out just how strong Vegeta had become. And he hoped Vegeta would realize just before he died how pointless all his efforts were. No matter how strong he ever became, it would never, _never_ be enough to defeat him.

…

Bulma sighed, slumping forward in her chair as she finished yet another cup of tea. She had refused the food Mr. Popo offered, her appetite lacking since Vegeta left. Beside her, Nappa ate with his usual fervor, and on the other end of the table, her parents, Chi-Chi, and Gohan were also eating as if nothing was wrong. She was tired of sitting around doing nothing while almost all of her friends were out risking their lives, but there wasn't anything she could do about it. Pushing her chair back from the table, she stood up and excused herself quietly before going outside to get some fresh air.

She sat under one of the palm trees and held her face in her hands. It was getting harder not to break down crying the longer she had to wait to know the turnout of the fighting. She paused in rubbing her eyes when she heard a strange noise coming from the other side of the Lookout. Her heart pounded in her chest as she slowly stood up and padded around the palace to see what was making the strange noise. As she grew closer, she could hear someone talking, but she definitely did not recognize the voice. Peeking around the corner of the building, she spotted five strange men who had to be aliens. She gasped. They had to be Frieza's soldiers.

The blue-haired woman was about to run back inside and get help when Nappa and Gohan appeared behind her, having felt the ki of the strange warriors. She backed away from the corner, wanting to hide behind her stronger friends. Those men didn't look like pushovers; as much as she wanted to help, she didn't want to get herself killed by throwing herself into a fight she had no hope of winning. Maybe she could take on one of the little guys, but those big guys would snap her like a twig.

"Who the hell are these clowns?" Nappa muttered when he saw them. Bulma turned to him, brows knit with confusion. He was supposed to be the one telling her who they were.

Gohan frowned, his small hands balling into fists at his sides. "I know who they are."

The others looked down at him, wondering how he could possibly know them while they had no clue. He didn't answer their questioning looks, instead walking into view of the men, subtly raising his ki higher in preparation for battle. Deciding to follow his lead, Nappa gently pushed Bulma back before likewise stepping forward to face off against the unknown warriors.

The smallest of the men, a cloaked figure who was apparently the leader of the group, looked over when he saw movement and masked his surprise with an expression of unadulterated hatred. "Well, look who came to join our party."

The other men spun around and smirked when they saw the two saiyan warriors. A little kid and an old man, no doubt an easy win if they tried to instigate a fight. One of the taller ones, a man with pale blue skin and spiky white hair, raised his fists as he shifted into a fighting stance. "May we, my lord?"

"Wait." The short man gestured for the others to move out of the way so he could have a better look at the opposing fighters. He glanced at Nappa, then turned his gaze to Gohan. "It's that brat! I want him dead!"

"And he shall be," the blue man said smoothly.

"Good. The rest of you, make sure no one interferes." The short man shuffled forward, followed by two of the others, a short creature with red skin wearing a funny brown hat and an extremely tall man with lavender skin wearing a similar hat with white horns. The other two men, the one with blue skin and another tall one with a more animalistic face, tan skin, and white horns, stayed behind to fight Gohan and Nappa.

Before they could stop the others, the blue man and the horned guy started attacking Nappa, immediately putting them on the defensive. Bulma watched for a moment before jumping out in front of the others with her fists ready to strike. "Where do you think you're going, you freaks?"

"Salt, get this vermin out of the way," the leader ordered.

The red man grinned wickedly as he stepped forward and swung a punch at Bulma's face. To his surprise, she blocked the punch with her forearm and gave a retaliating kick that knocked him back a few feet. No longer concerned about suppressing her ki, she raised it to her maximum power and ran forward to hit him again. He ducked under her kick, losing his hat in the process.

"Who is this girl?" the tall man shouted.

"Does it matter?" Salt spat. He blocked one of Bulma's punches and jabbed her in the ribs with his other hand. Quickly, before she could recover, he floored her with a sweep kick and then kicked her in the ribs, slamming her body against the wall of the palace. Rolling onto her back, she groaned in pain. She hadn't even seen that last kick coming, let alone been able to dodge it. Her vision blurred as she watched them walk past her before she blacked out.

…

Goku waved to Tien when he saw him fighting about a dozen of Frieza's soldiers outside of a small city. He landed near them, waiting for Tien to finish the job to relate the orders from Vegeta to destroy any spacecraft he found. It didn't take long for Tien to kill them all, leaving nothing but a smoldering pile of burnt corpses behind when he walked over to greet his friend.

"Goku, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out fighting more of these guys?" Tien asked, wiping sweat from his brow as he surveyed the area for more soldiers.

The saiyan shrugged and rested his hands on his hips. "Looks like you've got the area under control without my help. Anyway, I just came to tell you to destroy any spaceships you find so the soldiers can't get away. Vegeta wants this all to end here so we don't have to chase after them, I guess."

Tien nodded. "That makes sense. The others know?"

"Yeah. Raditz went to tell Yamcha and Krillin, and I've already told Piccolo. Anyway, I kind of want to get back to Central City in case Vegeta needs help fighting Frieza. I can feel he's got more power. A lot more."

"You sensed it too?" Tien frowned a little as he hovered off the ground. "There's so many of them. I think we've killed most of them, but they're still out there hurting innocent people. We've got to stop them."

"Yeah, I know." Goku's smile faded as he, too, lifted off the ground. "Come on, I think I felt more of them that way. I'll help you with those, then I'm going back to Central City."

The two warriors flared their ki and headed south where there was another group of high power levels. They didn't talk more as they flew, instead focusing on all the ki they could feel, both of the aliens and the earthlings. To their relief, there were still thousands or millions of humans on the planet, and the number of soldiers was dropping by the minute. For several minutes they flew as fast as they could, in a hurry to get to the next troop of invading soldiers to stop them before they could kill more people. But then, when they were nearing their destination, they saw a rolling cloud of dark purple mist descending over the land.

"What's that?" Goku asked when he saw it. He slowed his flight, looking all around. The mist was everywhere, coming closer. It certainly didn't look natural.

Tien came to a stop beside him, equally confused. "I have no idea. Do you think it has something to do with Frieza?"

Goku shook his head. "I don't think so. At least, Vegeta never said anything about something like this."

"I don't think we should let it touch us. Or breathe it."

"It's everywhere." Goku glanced around again; this time, the mist was closer and it was moving fast. Avoiding it was going to be a challenge.

"Come on!" Tien shouted, flying higher in the air. "We should get back to Kami's Lookout. Maybe he knows what's going on."

"Wait!" Goku grabbed Tien's arm, stopping him. "I can ask Raditz and Vegeta about it. Maybe they know about it."

"How are you going to ask them?"

"With my mind." Goku flew higher, hoping they could stay above the mist as he opened his mental link with his brother. _"Raditz, do you see some kind of foggy cloud where you are?"_

There was a moment of silence before the answer came. _"Yeah, it was here a few minutes ago. I don't know what the hell it is, but it's making people go crazy. After it rolled through they all started acting like animals, fighting each other and destroying everything."_

_ "What about you? Are you okay?"_

_ "I'm fine. And, unfortunately, so are all of Frieza's men. On the bright side, the humans are fighting them and actually winning in some cases."_

_ "Can you find Krillin and Yamcha? Make sure they're okay. We need to find out what's going on and stop it."_

_ "Got it. I saw them a few minutes ago, they shouldn't be far away."_

Goku opened his eyes when he felt the mental link disconnect, though he didn't remember closing them. He was shocked when he found himself in the midst of the strangely colored mist. A few feet away from him, he heard Tien choking, holding his throat as if something were trying to strangle him. Immediately he went over to assist his friend, but Tien lashed out at him, hitting him with a strong punch to the gut. The saiyan doubled over in pain for a second before recovering. When he straightened, he saw that Tien was looking at him with a strange expression, and unless it was his imagination, his eyes were pink and his teeth were long and sharp like a wild animal.

"Tien? Are you okay?"

The three-eyed man growled as he lunged at Goku and started punching and kicking him with blind fury. At first caught off-guard, Goku was unable to block or dodge the blows, but once he got over the initial surprise, he was able to defend himself from his friend.

"Tien!" he shouted, "What are you doing?"

Growing frustrated with Tien's relentless and unwarranted attacks, Goku finally struck back, careful to hold back enough not to seriously injure him. While Tien spiraled down to the ground, Goku blasted off toward Central City. If Frieza was responsible for this strange turn of events, he wanted to get to the bottom of it and reverse it as soon as possible. There wasn't time for his friends to fight amongst themselves when they needed to be fighting Frieza's army. He looked back over his shoulder and groaned when he saw Tien following him.

_"Kakarrot!"_

_ "What, Raditz?"_

_ "I found Krillin and Yamcha. They've been affected by that mist too. When I got to them they tried to kill me."_

_ "The same thing happened to Tien. I'm heading back to Central City now. If Frieza's responsible for this, I want to know how to stop it. Meet me there."_

_ "On my way." _Raditz closed his link with his brother and sped toward Central City. He could feel Yamcha and Krillin trailing after him, occasionally having to dodge a ki attack thrown his way. He decided not to take the time to stop and knock them out, but he was growing increasingly irritated with their hostility. He knew they were being affected by something he didn't understand, but he still resented them for their irrational behavior. At a time like this, they needed to be attacking Frieza's men, not him.

…

Frieza blocked a punch and feinted a right hook, fooling Vegeta so he could kick him with his left leg. He laughed when Vegeta gasped in pain as he hit his already broken ribs, grabbing the saiyan's hair as he doubled over. Frieza held the saiyan prince like a ragdoll as he started beating him with his free hand and legs. Blood oozed from the saiyan's broken nose and split lip by the time he was done. He threw him on the ground and kicked him again.

The fight definitely wasn't going as Vegeta wanted. He got back to his feet, staggering back a few steps before regaining his balance, and clenched his fists at his sides. Frieza was in his transformation, a hideous form with a grotesquely elongated head with four horns, long spikes sprouting from his back, and a flat, pale face. Vegeta allowed himself to be caught off-guard after Frieza made his latest transformation, giving the alien tyrant the edge through the latter part of their battle. He wasn't stronger or faster, but he gained the upper hand early and now he was taking full advantage of it. On top of that, he wasn't giving Vegeta the time he needed to raise his power.

"What's wrong, Vegeta? Am I hurting you? Surely you didn't think fighting me would be a walk in the park." Frieza's lip curled contemptuously as he looked at the battered saiyan.

Vegeta spat out a mouthful of blood and leaned against a section of a wall that was still left standing. His left eye was already swollen shut and his vision was blurry in his right eye. Forcing himself to focus, he started raising his power again. He still had reserves of untapped energy that he needed to access if he hoped to last much longer against Frieza. But he couldn't make it obvious what he was doing or Frieza would knock him down again, doing anything to break his concentration.

'Keep talking, Frieza. Tell me how great you are so I can increase my power.' Vegeta coughed violently as blood seeped into his lungs. Slowly he raised his ki, being careful to keep it from showing in any outward manifestation. "I never said it would be easy killing an immortal. Tell me, do you think you would have had a chance against me without your wish?"

Frieza growled, his energy crackling around him. "I don't need immortality to beat you into the ground, monkey."

Vegeta exhaled slowly as he felt some relief washing over his body. His increased ki was speeding the healing of his body, easing some of the pain in his chest and slowing the blood flow from all his injuries. Taking a deep breath, he pushed off from the wall and flew straight at Frieza, dodging his tail as it swung at him, and ducking under a punch. He grabbed Frieza's leg as it flew toward him and used it to push his momentum up, swinging around so his heels hit the tyrant's ugly face. Frieza reeled backwards from the blow while Vegeta landed in front of him and fired a beam of ki at close range.

While Frieza was temporarily out of commission, Vegeta raised his ki further, assuming his fighting stance to defend against any attacks. He jumped into the air in a back-flip when he felt a ki attack approaching from behind. The ki beam shot under him and hit Frieza instead, and while it wasn't terribly strong, it was still better to hit Frieza than himself. He landed again and spun around to see who his new assailant was, surprised when he saw the earthling scar-faced warrior. Beside him was the bald midget, his hand extended above his head with palm up, a disk of ki forming.

"What the hell are you doing?" Vegeta screamed. He jumped out of the way when Krillin sent the destructo disk flying his way. He whirled around to see where it went, his eyebrow raising when he saw it cut off the end of Frieza's tail unintentionally. Maybe it would have some benefit, at least.

"Krillin, stop that!" Goku yelled when he saw what was happening. He landed behind him and Yamcha and kicked them to the ground. "Where's Raditz?"

"Over here!" Raditz ground out as he tried to hold off an animalistic Tien. "Did you have to bring him with you?"

"I could ask the same about you," Goku said, pointing to Yamcha and Krillin.

"Not my fault they followed me."

"What are you idiots doing here?" Vegeta roared, interrupting their conversation. "Get them the hell out of here." He grunted when Frieza appeared next to him and punched his jaw.

"So, Vegeta," Frieza taunted, "Even your allies are fighting against you now. Though they could improve their aim." To emphasize his point, he swung his tail around, clobbering Vegeta with it.

The flame-haired saiyan picked himself up off the ground and rolled his shoulders back before punching Frieza with as much strength as he could put into a single blow. The alien went careening across the city and landed roughly, rolling several times before coming to a stop. Pushing his ki higher still, Vegeta took off after him, dodging another ball of ki sent his way by one of the earthlings. As he approached Frieza, he started gathering energy in both hands, cupping them together at his side.

Coming to a stop above Frieza's fallen form, he yelled, "Gallic Gun!" The beam of violet ki released from his hands and made a direct hit, but he knew it wasn't enough to kill the tyrant, especially since he was, well, immortal.

He opened his link with Raditz and told him, _"Get those fools out here. Knock them out, take them away. I don't need them distracting me."_

_ "I will, but do you have any idea what's making them act this way? Did Frieza do something? Every human on the planet's gone crazy."_

_ "I didn't see him do anything. I don't think it's him. Now move!"_ He cut off their telepathic link abruptly when he felt Frieza's power growing again. From the smoke shot rays of blindingly bright light. He swallowed hard. Frieza was transforming again and there was no way to stop it.

…

Nappa woke to the sound of Gohan crying out in pain. Groaning, he opened his eyes and looked around the dark room. The little guy, obviously the leader, was sitting in Kami's throne. In the center of the room, the other four warriors were playing a soccer game using Gohan as the ball. At least, that's what it looked like they were doing. Quietly, he sat up, ignoring the pain shooting through his body with every small movement.

Despite his attempts not to attract attention, the midget in the guardian's throne looked over at him and scowled. "I thought I told you useless morons to kill him!"

The blue-skinned man looked over at Nappa and shrugged. "I thought we did kill him. He must be tougher than we thought." When Gohan's body flew his way, he kicked him over to where Nappa was.

Gohan was breathing heavily when he landed next to Nappa. His small body was horribly bruised and covered in scratches and cuts. He looked up at the bald saiyan, almost apologetically, and whimpered a little. "I – I'm not strong – enough to – to fight them all," he whispered.

"I know, kid," Nappa said, keeping his voice low so the others couldn't hear. "Where are the others? Did they hurt them?"

The young demi-saiyan shook his head once, a movement small enough only Nappa noticed it. "They're locked in another room." He gasped as pain coursed through his body. "Kami and – and Mr. Popo are trapped – trapped in bottles. Need to – to help them."

Nappa grunted, turning his gaze to the table at the side of the throne. He could see two glass bottles there, but he couldn't see what was in them. "Who is this guy, anyway?"

"Garlic, Jr. I fought him when I was younger. Don't know how – how he came back."

They both looked over when they heard footsteps coming their way. It was the blue-skinned man, seemingly the strongest of the bunch. Once he reached them, he knelt down in front of Nappa and grabbed his throat, lifting him up off the floor. "I don't know who you are, but you're in the way. For that, you must die."

Gathering the last dregs of his strength, Nappa held the blue man's elbow with his left hand and hit his upper arm as hard as he could with his right hand, breaking his humerus. He smirked when he heard the snap and the following howl of pain. He managed to gain his freedom for a short time, falling to the floor when the hand released his throat.

"Got any power left, kid?" he asked as he rolled onto his side.

"Not much. So tired."

"We got to fight them." Nappa started gathering energy in his hands. "If we both attack one of them at once, we might have a chance. Which one's the weakest?"

Gohan looked over at the strange men. His senses were dulled from the extensive beating he received, making it difficult to focus on a single ki signature. "I think the red guy."

"Alright. On three we attack, got it?" Nappa poured more energy into his hands. "One…"

The boy rolled over and sat up, also gathering energy in his hands for an attack against the smallest fighter of the group. He wondered why they weren't all attacking at once, but he dismissed that thought. He wouldn't question their opportunity to get back in the battle, hopefully taking them by surprise.

"Two." Nappa pushed himself up to his feet, his hands glowing with the energy they held. Beside him, Gohan also struggled to his feet and faced their adversaries. "Three!"

Together they released their attacks on the red-skinned fighter. As they hoped, he was caught by surprise and didn't have time to block the attacks. They were severely weakened by their previous fights, but they still had enough combined energy to overpower him, their ki attacks incinerating his body. All that was left was a streak of black on the floor and a tendril of smoke wafting through the air.

Seeing their victory, Nappa collapsed to his knees and Gohan fell on his face. They had one less fighter to contend with, but they had no energy left to speak of to fight off the others who were now likely angry as hornets. 'At least,' Nappa thought before passing out, 'we got one of them. One less for the others to deal with.'

_A/N: Well, there's action for Nappa at the Lookout. Man, some of you reviewers have some violent ideas about how to kill Frieza... it's fantastic. :D I'm actually not really going to go through the Buu saga, but it will be addressed. So, there won't be a sequel to this story. I guess you'll figure out what my views on immortality are through the next few chapters. Yeah, Garlic and his men are probably stronger here than in CU, but you know what? This is an AU! Deal with it!_

_I just finished writing chapter 68 (and it's intense, so I'm pleased with it). I'll start 69 soon enough. On a side note, does anyone else agree _Inception_ is one of the best movies ever? I've been obsessing over it lately..._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	67. Retreat

Retreat

Piccolo flared his ki around him, instantly freeing himself from the horde of crazed humans that attacked him unprovoked. Sneering at them, he jumped into the air and sped off in the direction of Kami's Lookout, stopping periodically to fight alien invaders - and vampiric earthlings. He doubted the humans' behavior was caused by anything Frieza had done. After fighting off a few more humans, he was still undecided on what to do; he could continue fighting Frieza's men, or he could seek a solution to the problem of all the earthlings going mad. He was still trying to figure out what to do when he sensed that Gohan was in trouble. Fortunately, he wasn't far from the Lookout, so it didn't take him long to reach it. What he wasn't expecting was the high energies within the palace that obviously didn't belong to Kami or any of the other earthling warriors. Frieza's men? There was no way to be sure.

Not wasting any time, Piccolo ran over to the main entrance of the guardian's palace – which was looking the worse for wear – and listened to the talking inside. There were four distinct voices, one he was familiar with enough to recognize: Garlic, Jr. His brows knit as he listened in.

"Should we kill him now, Lord Garlic?"

"No. He's going to tell me where his father is before we kill him. They can die together."

"What about the other one?"

"Throw him in with the other prisoners."

"Why are we taking prisoners anyway? I thought we were going to use the black water mist to take over the world. They aren't even infected by it."

"Because, you idiot, we can use these fools as bait. When Goku finds out his precious friends and family are being held hostage, he'll come to save them, and then we'll kill him!"

"How will he know we have them?"

Piccolo stopped listening for a moment, his thoughts racing. Leave it to that little slug to try getting revenge at a time like this. Any other time they could easily defeat him, throw him back into the void he somehow escaped from, but now? Now everyone was busy fighting Frieza and his men. They didn't have much manpower to spare. He sighed, leaning heavily on the wall of the palace. Black water mist. He knew a little bit about it, but not much. That had to be what was making all the humans in the world go mad. Well, there had to be some way to reverse its effects.

Garlic Jr. turned toward the entryway and frowned. "Spice, I believe we have a guest waiting outside. Why don't you show him in?"

Wincing in pain, the blue-skinned commander of the Spice Boys stood up and walked over to the entrance of the palace. Already he could feel the power of the Makyo Star healing his arm, but it was still useless in a fight, so he hoped whoever was outside wouldn't struggle much. Outside, he stopped when he saw Piccolo lowering himself into his defensive stance. "Piccolo, what a surprise. What are you doing here?"

Piccolo sneered. "I could ask you the same question."

"Now, now, there's no need to be rude," Spice said calmly, circling around the Namekian. "Weren't you down below when the black water mist came? You should have been infected by it."

"Guess it only works on humans," Piccolo retorted. "I want to see Garlic."

Spice sighed dramatically before turning to go back inside, leading the way to see his master. "Very well, then. Come this way."

Piccolo took a few steps inside the palace before pausing, looking around at the surroundings. There was an obscenely large throne in place of Kami's old throne. Garlic Jr. was sitting on it, looking even more ridiculous than usual as his small stature was engulfed by the throne. In his lap he was holding a glass jar, and inside the jar was a miniaturized Kami. Piccolo's brows knit as he turned his gaze away from Garlic, spotting Nappa and Gohan sprawled out on the floor by the far wall. Both of them looked beat up, but their injuries were mostly superficial. With their physiology, it wouldn't take long for them to recover and become even stronger than before. But until that happened, he needed to make sure Garlic didn't kill them. He finished his survey of the room, noting that Garlic had a second jar containing Mr. Popo. All the others who had been left on the Lookout must have been taken somewhere else and held captive – or killed.

"Well, Piccolo, how nice of you to join us," Garlic Jr. said when he saw the Namekian follow Spice inside. "I have a little proposition for you. Join us and live as a ruler over this world. The black water mist has made all the humans our obedient servants, and in 24 hours the effects of the mist will be irreversible. What do you say?"

Piccolo turned back to the small creature, lip curled contemptuously. "The effects aren't permanent until then? I gather there's a way to cure them, then. Why would I align myself with you when there's a chance you'll fail?"

Garlic Jr. scoffed, waving his hand in dismissal. "Don't be ridiculous, Piccolo. The only way to stop my plan is to administer the sacred water to every being affected by the mist before the 24 hours is up. And I can assure you," he said coldly, giving his audience a pointed glare, "that isn't going to happen."

Glancing over at Gohan and Nappa, Piccolo nodded slowly. "I'm sure your plan is brilliant, Garlic, but there's a problem you hadn't anticipated."

"Oh? And what would that be?"

"Earth's being invaded by an alien army as we speak, and they're killing every human on the planet. They weren't affected by the mist and they're going to conquer this planet. And I can assure you, they're much stronger than you and your men. You'll never rule this planet even if you kill Kami." Piccolo smirked, seeing he struck a nerve. From the corner of his eye he could see the two saiyan warriors rousing from unconsciousness and urged them mentally to stay quiet so they wouldn't gain the attention of the others in the room.

Though he was taken aback at first, Garlic Jr. shrugged disinterestedly after hearing Piccolo's disturbing revelation. "They're stronger, you say? Even if that's true, you've forgotten something: I'm immortal. I can't be killed no matter how strong they are. Don't be a fool. Join me and live as a god among these people."

Piccolo snorted, shaking his head. "Maybe later." While Garlic Jr. struggled to squelch his indignation, Piccolo lowered himself to his fighting stance, ready to take on the remaining lackeys to buy time for the others to recover fully and get back in the fight.

…

Vegeta coughed violently after taking a hard punch to the gut. He hadn't seen it coming, hadn't been able to block or dodge. Frieza's most recent transformation was incredible; while his body had shrunk back to its original size, his skin was almost all pure white aside from patches of purple that formed a sort of organic armor. Not only was he many times stronger in this form, but he was also faster, so much faster Vegeta had no chance of keeping up with him even at his maximum power. The worst part was knowing Frieza was toying with him as he fought, cutting down his pride with taunts as well as kicks and punches. He was defenseless and losing energy fast.

While he felt Raditz retreat several minutes ago with the earthling warriors in tow, he could still sense Kakarrot close by, no doubt waiting for his chance to step in and try his hand against Frieza. He scoffed at the idea; if he was being so terribly beaten, the third-class saiyan would have even less of a chance of winning. But let the fool hang around, putting himself in danger. That was his prerogative, and though Vegeta would prefer him going somewhere else to actually make himself useful, he wasn't going to tell him to leave. Not when there was still the slim chance of him swallowing his pride and asking for help.

"What's the matter, Vegeta?" Frieza jeered, slapping the saiyan prince to the ground with a quick flick of his tail. "Are you getting tired already?"

Vegeta rose shakily to his hands and knees, ignoring the stinging sensation where the lizard's tail whipped him. He had been beaten worse than this many times in his life. So far – he hadn't decided if it was good or bad – he wasn't even on the verge of blacking out from the pain and blood loss. No, he still had some fight left in him that Frieza was trying hard to bring out. With a soft hiss of pain, Vegeta forced himself to his feet and threw himself at the tyrant wildly, hoping that in his blind rage he might be able to land a single blow. He had long since thrown strategy to the wayside. It wasn't helping anyway.

As soon as he was back on his feet, Frieza phased in next to him and backhanded him halfway across the desolated city. The prince landed not far from where Goku was standing, watching. With blurred vision, Vegeta rolled onto his back with a groan of pain and found himself at the feet of the other saiyan. He looked up, noting how the normally cheerful façade was replaced with a rare scowl, his hands balled into fists at his sides, his whole body trembling with rage and bloodlust. In that brief moment, Vegeta knew that Kakarrot was a true saiyan, no matter how human he had allowed himself to become. It was almost a relief, but at the same time it shamed him to know he was being beaten and humiliated in front of one of his people.

"Kakarrot," he ground out through tightly clenched teeth, "don't you dare interfere. This is _my _battle, and unless I'm dead, _I _will finish it."

Goku looked down at him, and for a second Vegeta thought he could see pity and defiance flashing in his onyx eyes, but then it was gone. Perhaps he had simply imagined it. Either way, he dragged himself to his feet, ignoring the outstretched hand the tailless saiyan offered to help him up. Wiping his bloody lip on the back of his hand, Vegeta looked over to where the space tyrant was still standing, perfectly calm, not at all winded, hardly a scratch on his sleek white body. Hopelessness washed over him before he was able to calm himself.

"This bastard's mine," he muttered, mostly to himself. "It is my destiny to kill him."

Without a word Goku stepped back, silently obeying the prince he didn't serve. He watched as the flame-haired saiyan straightened his posture, taking on the regal poise he exhibited despite the pain shooting through his body and the lack of energy pumping through his muscles. In that moment, he gained a new respect for Vegeta as he watched him slowly levitate off the ground and move back toward his undefeatable enemy. Any other time he may have condemned the prince for his arrogance and pride, but after witnessing Frieza's cruelty and sadism, he could understand Vegeta's need for vengeance, for closure. He could never understand the history between them, but he could tell Vegeta _needed _this victory. That alone was the reason he held his tongue, swallowing back his protests and pleas for Vegeta to let him step in and fight. He was there as backup, as the silent witness to what would surely be the greatest battle of the universe.

It was difficult to continue watching when he saw Vegeta easily batted aside when he charged toward the small tyrant. He winced when he heard more cracking bones and Vegeta's roars of agony as Frieza ground him into the dirt. Never before had he ever heard Vegeta utter a single cry of pain no matter what kind of suffering he endured; because of this, he knew what Vegeta was experiencing now far outweighed anything else he had ever lived through. Goku had to force himself not to look away as Frieza wrapped his tail around Vegeta's neck and suspended him from the ground, beating him like a living punching bag with such speed he couldn't even see his fists moving.

Vegeta coughed up gobs of blood, retching as he nearly choked on blood, phlegm, and whatever other fluids seeped down his trachea and into his lungs. By now he was sure every one of his ribs was fractured and he had to have several displaced vertebrae. He knew if he lived through the fight he would be pissing blood for weeks as he felt more unbearably strong punches hitting his kidneys. Maybe it would be a blessing to die after this beating. Surely he would be forever crippled if he lived.

'No, damnit, I can't think like that!' he shouted at himself. 'I am not going to lose and I can't die. I have to live to be with my woman. Damnit, I have to protect my pack!' With a roar of unadulterated fury, Vegeta's energy exploded around his body, freeing him from the grasp of the lizard for a short reprieve from his suffering. Breathing heavily, he landed in a heap on the ground, not having the energy and coordination to land on his feet or keep himself from eating dirt. He pushed himself onto his back and raised himself up on his elbows, looking around for the white lizard through the cloud of dust surrounding him.

When he was sure he was in the clear – for now, at least – he struggled to his feet and crouched down, ready to pounce as soon as he knew where Frieza was. He must have had a concussion, he figured, as it was difficult to concentrate and keep his senses attuned to his environment. His mind felt hazy, making it more challenging to pinpoint Frieza's ki and attack. He shook his head to clear it, but only ended up making it worse until he had to swallow bile rising in his throat as a wave of nausea overtook him.

Then he felt the air shift behind him and tensed every muscle in his body in preparation to receive another staggering blow, but none came. Confused, he turned his head until he saw Frieza's face mere inches from his own. He swallowed, but his mouth was dry and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

"Don't be a coward, Vegeta," Frieza whispered, his grating voice sending chills down Vegeta's spine. "You knew as well as I that one day I would kill you. You're weak, just like your father and your entire race."

Vegeta's breath hitched when he felt Frieza's hand on his shoulder, digging his nails deep into his flesh until rivulets of hot blood poured down his arm, dripping from his elbow to the ground. He ground his teeth together as he held back another cry of pain, willing himself to stay strong even as he faced his inevitable defeat. Yes, he was weak. How many times in his life had he proven that? He was weak enough to form attachments to the Briefs as a boy, weak enough to allow himself to become a monster, weak enough to lose his mind in the isolation chamber, weak enough to choose to stay on Earth rather than leave to save his pack. His weakness would be his undoing, and it was because of his weakness that his pack was going to die. It was his weakness that led Frieza right to them.

'No,' he vowed to himself, trying to cast aside his despair, 'I can't die like this! I will not die like a yellow dog under the porch! No!'

Frieza laughed victoriously when the great saiyan prince crumpled to his knees, tremors creeping through his body as he fought to ignore his pain and maintain his foolish pride. He wouldn't last much longer in battle; he was too weary and mentally he was unstable. All the taunting, the jokes, they were in fact his greatest weapon against the little monkey. He always strutted about with a bloated ego, but he was easier to tear apart than anyone else he knew. Frieza knew Vegeta through and through, and he knew that Vegeta's greatest strength, his pride, was also his greatest weakness, his Achilles heel.

…

Raditz stopped in the forest near Korin's Tower and set the three unconscious warriors on the ground. He figured there was no one else near enough to hurt them before they woke up, and they were far enough from all the battles that they wouldn't interfere and accidentally aid the enemy. Besides, he was tired of awkwardly carrying three grown men across the globe.

He sat down, leaning against a tree trunk, and tried to feel out the battle between Vegeta and Frieza. He frowned when all he could feel was Frieza's tremendous power easily eclipsing the prince. He could also sense Goku near the battle, but he was staying out of it. His ki was flickering with suppressed rage and excitement, but it was still kept down. He definitely wasn't preparing for battle, at least not any time soon. Apparently, then, Vegeta was still hanging on, but he probably didn't have any hope of winning. Raditz sighed, instead focusing his senses on the Lookout high above where he was sitting. He expected only to find the power levels of Nappa and Gohan, but instead he felt Piccolo and four other massive, unfamiliar energies. Immediately he jumped to his feet, hands clenching into fists at his sides.

_"Nappa!" _he screamed through their mental link, _"What the hell is going on up there? Whose ki do I feel? Where's Bulma?"_

He waited impatiently for a minute, but no answer came. Nappa was either so distracted that he couldn't spare the mental energy it would take to reply, or he was unconscious. Judging by the level of power Raditz felt at the Lookout, he guessed it was the latter. Straining his senses, he searched for Bulma's ki until finally he found it in a different location at the Lookout. It was below her normal level, even when she was repressing it, so she, too, must have been unconscious. Growling, Raditz glared down at the three earthlings once more before darting straight up into the sky to find out what was going on. Who was there who could easily take out both Nappa and Gohan and be giving Piccolo such a hard time?

Not wanting to distract Vegeta from his fight, he sent a telepathic message to his brother instead. _"Kakarrot, there's trouble at the Lookout. I might need backup, get here as soon as possible."_

_ "What? I can't leave Vegeta here alone, Raditz!"_

There was a practically audible growl that passed across the brothers' mental link. _"Then bring him along! Frieza isn't going anywhere, but I think Bulma and the others are in danger. Nappa and Gohan are both out cold and Piccolo's fighting against four others with huge power levels."_

_ "He won't like having his fight interrupted…"_

_ "You think I don't know that?"_

Sighing, Goku cut off the mental link with his brother and waited for a short lull in the fight for him to relay the message to Vegeta. The last thing he wanted was for his intrusion into the prince's mind to cause him to get into a bind he couldn't break free from. When Frieza batted Vegeta across the city, Goku decided that was as good a time as any to speak up.

_"Vegeta! Raditz says they're having trouble at the Lookout. He wants us to go there now."_

If he thought the growl from Raditz was loud, the one he received from Vegeta was practically enough to liquefy his brains. _"Can you not see I'm busy, Kakarrot? Deal with it yourself! I don't need your help here!"_

_ "But Vegeta, what if Bulma's in danger? Don't you want to help her?"_

There was an audible roar of frustration from the other side of the city. _"I can't call a time-out in this fight! Go!"_

_ "What if something happens to you while I'm gone? I won't be able to help you. Come on, Vegeta, you need to come with me. Look, I have a plan. I can temporarily blind Frieza and we can get away, okay?"_

_ "No, Kakar—"_

_ "Close your eyes!" _Cutting off the mental link before Vegeta could protest more, Goku phased over to stand in front of the fallen prince, acting as a barrier between him and Frieza. With eyes clamped shut, he moved his hands up to the sides of his face, fingers extended, and yelled, "Solar flare!"

In the blinding flash of light that followed, Goku turned around, grabbed Vegeta's arm, and hauled him off the ground as he blasted into the sky. He pushed himself to go as fast as he possibly could to put as much distance between himself and Frieza before the lizard's vision recovered from the solar flare. Goku heard Vegeta screaming at him as they flew, but he wasn't paying attention to what the prince was saying. At any rate, it probably wasn't anything he wanted to hear.

With the increasing distance between the saiyans and Frieza, Goku was better able to feel out what was going on at the Lookout. Raditz was there now, fighting someone with a high power level; not as high as Raditz, but enough to give him trouble, and he seemed to have incredible endurance. Frowning, Goku hurried on to the Lookout with Vegeta in tow, still having a royal tantrum about being taken away from his fight with Frieza.

As they flew past Korin's Tower, Goku considered leaving Vegeta there to recover a little before bringing him into another battle, but he dismissed that thought as soon as it entered his mind. If it wasn't bad enough to force Vegeta to retreat, it would be even worse to make him retreat and then not allow him to fight to protect his pack. The Prince of all Saiyans was badly beaten, so how he would be any use in a fight against powerful opponents was a good question. Still, he had some energy reserves left, and though he couldn't move quickly anymore and he could hardly coordinate his muscles enough to throw a decent punch, he could still be useful, somehow. But seeing Korin's Tower reminded him that Raditz had three senzu beans, which would be a great help in getting Vegeta back on his feet. With a sigh, Goku flew still higher until he reached the Lookout. As soon as he did, Piccolo's body went flying off the edge and started plummeting to the ground far below. Dropping Vegeta's body unceremoniously on the platform, Goku dove after the Namekian and caught him, then carried him back up.

Goku landed on the edge of the Lookout near where he left Vegeta and laid Piccolo down next to him. He stood up and appraised the fighters he saw around the destroyed palace. There was a blue-skinned man with white hair and two tall muscle-bound thugs, one with lavender skin and the other with tan skin and long, reddish hair. They were disgustingly ugly, but Goku had seen worse that day.

"Who are you?" he demanded. "Frieza's men?"

The blue-skinned man's eyes scanned over Goku before he replied, "We don't know who this Frieza is. We serve Lord Garlic. And who are you?"

"My name is Goku. What have you done with my son?"

"Spice!"

The blue-skinned man turned toward the entrance to the main palace when he heard his name called by his master. He knelt down when the small, cloaked figure appeared in the doorway. "Yes, master Garlic?"

Garlic walked over to where his servant was kneeling, the whole time keeping his eyes on Goku to watch for any sudden moves. "I was wondering when you would show up, _Goku_. I've been waiting for you."

While Garlic Jr. continued explicating his desire for revenge, his brilliant plan to rule the world, and how he was going to make him and his son pay for defeating him before, Goku's gaze again shifted around the Lookout. 'Where's Raditz?' he wondered. Honing his senses to locate his brother, he found him inside the palace. He was still strong, so he hadn't been beaten like the others. And speaking of the others, he was with Gohan and Nappa, who now felt strong enough that they must be awake, though still recovering from their previous fight with these goons.

Interrupting Garlic's spiel, Goku asked, "And what did you do to my brother? Where is he? Where are all my friends?"

Garlic's eyebrows rose as he was momentarily at a loss for words. "Brother? You have a brother?"

"Yeah, tall guy, has a tail, long hair…"

Spice laughed when he heard the description. "Oh, him? He was even easier to defeat than your little runt and the bald man."

Goku had to hide the smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips. Raditz hadn't been defeated, he just allowed them to think they defeated him so they would take him to the others. Apparently they couldn't sense ki or they would have known that. Putting on a false frown he growled, "You won't get away with this!"

The self-proclaimed Guardian of Earth was unimpressed as he stepped forward, shedding his cloak. "And who is this?" he asked, looking down at Vegeta. "Another friend? He doesn't look like he'll be much use to you in a fight against an immortal like me."

The tailless saiyan glanced down at the prince, then back up at Garlic, who was still moving closer. "You'd be surprised. Now tell me where the others are."

It didn't surprise Goku when Garlic refused to tell him what he wanted to know, so with his mental link with Raditz he told him, _"You need to find the others. He probably has them locked in one of the rooms in there. Find them and get them out. I'll hold these guys off."_

_ "Okay. Gohan and Nappa are both going to be fine. I'm splitting one of the senzu beans between them. These guys aren't that strong, but it's like you can't keep them down. Be careful."_

_ "I will."_

Goku sank into his fighting stance, raising his power to match the others. "Alright, if that's the way you want to play it, fine."

"Step back, boys," Garlic Jr. said, "The coup de grace is mine."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? You're going to need all the help you can get." Before giving his opponent a chance to reconsider, Goku lunged at him and caught him with a hard right hook that sent him flying across the platform. He phased over to where he landed and aimed a kick at his ribs, but Garlic dodged and jumped back to his feet, ready to start anew.

'Well,' Goku thought, 'Maybe he'll be more of a challenge than I thought.' Smirking, he tried attacking again, but instead of landing any blows, he received a kick to the gut that left him winded.

At the edge of the Lookout, Piccolo shook his head to clear it and rose to his feet, watching the battle playing out between Goku and Garlic. While they were busy, it would be easier to take on the lackeys. He looked over when he heard Vegeta coughing as he sat up, holding his ribs with one arm and supporting himself with the other. It didn't look like his battle with Frieza had been going too well.

"Vegeta, can you get up?" he asked gruffly.

Vegeta glared at him a moment, then spat out a mouthful of blood. "Of course I can get up, you fool. Who the hell are these freaks?"

While Piccolo gave a brief rundown on all the warriors around the Lookout, Vegeta started testing him limits, figuring out how far he could push his ki without it overwhelming his broken body. Every surge of power that coursed through him brought a small sense of relief as it helped his body heal, but it would be a long time before he would be recovered enough to be able to fight well.

Despite the warning growl, Piccolo helped Vegeta to his feet. "Gohan, Raditz, and Nappa are all inside. Raditz is fine, so I think he's searching for Bulma and the others. We need to get inside and free Kami so he can get the sacred water to the Earth to reverse the effects of the black water mist."

"The what?" Vegeta groaned, resting his hands on his knees.

"The stuff that made all the earthlings start acting like animals. If they don't get the sacred water by the time 24 hours have passed, they'll be stuck like that forever." By now, their hushed conversation and movement had gained the attention of Spice and Mustard. "Great, looks like we're going to have a little trouble getting inside."

Vegeta straightened, rolling his shoulders back. "Why should we care about the humans?" he growled. "There's more important things to take care of right now. Remember Frieza?"

Piccolo took his fighting stance as Spice and Mustard approached them. "There'll be no point in saving this planet if all the people kill each other. Are you still able to fight?"

The flame-haired saiyan snorted. "I am the Prince of all Saiyans! Of course I can fight."

"Good, because it looks like you're going to have to." Piccolo hardly finished saying the last word before Spice phased out and reappeared in front of him, swinging his fist. The Namekian barely caught it before it landed on his jaw. Then the two of them disappeared, continuing their battle in the air above the Lookout.

"Great," Vegeta muttered, looking up at his opponent. "Why do I get ugly?"

…

"My eyes! What have they done to my eyes?" Frieza howled with frustration and pain as he cracked his eyes open. Colorful spots danced across his field of vision as everything blurred and turned white, then black. He clawed at his eyes, willing them to stop hurting, to be able to focus on his surroundings. Finally, after a few minutes of near-blindness, he was able to open his eyes and look around at the decimated city without much pain.

He was not at all surprised when he didn't see either of the saiyans around, but it still made his frustration grow exponentially. His fists clenched so tightly his black nails drew blood from the palms of his hands. "Where did they go? Foolish monkeys! They cannot escape me!"

The idea of blowing up the entire planet with them still on it crossed his mind, but he shook it off. No, after this last humiliation he was going to watch them die slowly by his hand, writhing in agony on the floor as he tortured them. He could almost hear their horrified screams as he exacted his revenge on them for their insolence. But first he had to find them, and they could be anywhere on the planet by now. Forcing himself to calm down enough to think rationally, Frieza started back toward his ship, which was amazingly still intact despite the battle waged around it. At the hatch, he found his hovering throne and inside his scouter was still on the seat. Smirking to himself, he picked up the scouter and put it on, pushing the button to activate it.

Hundreds of numbers scrawled across the screen, some large, some small, none of them would belong to the saiyan prince. Still, Frieza waited patiently for the scouter to locate all the significant ki on the planet. Eventually it would find Vegeta, even if he did already have one foot in the grave. "You can't hide for long, my little pet."

…

Vegeta's body skidded across the cracked tile floor after receiving another crushing blow from the monstrous creature he was pitted against. Going against his better judgment, he powered up higher until he felt like his energy was going to consume his body. 'This is ridiculous! I should be having no trouble at all beating his scum into the ground!'

Before he could get up, Mustard flew over and landed on his chest, holding him down with his foot. Beads of sweat formed on Vegeta's brow as he forced himself to hold in the roar of pain as his already cracked ribs were crushed under Mustard's weight. He gurgled as blood flowed into his lungs, pieces of shattered bone piercing his vital organs. There was no way he could take much more of this without dying.

He had almost resigned himself to his fate when the weight on his chest suddenly disappeared. He opened his eyes and looked over when he heard a crash to his left. There he saw a tangle of limbs as Spice and Mustard tried to get up. Turning his head to look the other way, he saw Piccolo running toward him. He rolled onto his side, letting some of the blood flow freely from his mouth and nose.

"Get up, Vegeta!" Piccolo barked.

If it hadn't hurt so much, Vegeta would have growled at the Namekian for ordering him around like a child. As it was, all he could do was give a withering glare as he pushed himself to his feet, hardly able to remain standing with all the energy he'd lost. He was definitely running on his last reserves now. He winced in pain with each hurried step he took toward the central palace, counting on Piccolo to hold off the opposing fighters while he made another ungraceful, humiliating retreat.

Vegeta was almost to the door when another of the large fighters, the one with lavender skin who was wearing a brown hat, dropped down in front of him, barring his path. "And just where do you think you're going, little man?"

"Get the _fuck out of my way_," Vegeta hissed menacingly, his lips curling in a feral snarl. He refused to let anyone else push him around, no matter how badly he had been weakened in his fights. Inside the palace somewhere was his woman and his pack, and he was going to help them escape their prison and hopefully send them off planet. Nothing was going to stand in his way, not even some enormous, bulky creature like the one in front of him now.

As Vegeta advanced another step, Vinegar took a hesitant step back. While he was surely stronger and able to beat this little man into a pulp, something stayed his hand. Maybe it was the pure malice and hatred burning in the flame-haired man's eyes or the chilling tone his voice took before descending into a growl. But it was only one step, and that wasn't enough to let Vegeta into the main palace where the others were, and it was the only step he was willing to give up.

Vinegar swung his fist forward, intending to hit Vegeta in the chest, but with an unexpected show of speed and strength, the saiyan blocked the blow with both of his hands, holding onto the large fist and refusing to let go. Taking a deep breath despite the immense pain and blood in his lungs, Vegeta pulled Vinegar forward, throwing him off balance, and jumped over him, kicking his head hard on the way over. He landed behind Vinegar with a slight stagger before flooring him with a strong back kick. Once that threat was out of the way, Vegeta started running forward, not really knowing where he was going, just knowing that he needed to get inside.

He only managed to take a few steps in before something heavy landed on his back, pushing him down to the floor. He groaned as he hit the floor, unable to free himself from the weight on his back. "Damnit!" he yelled. "Get off me!"

"Whoops! Sorry, Vegeta," Goku said as he rolled off the prince, quickly getting back up on his feet. "Man, that little guy sure packs a punch. Well, I guess he's not so little anymore."

"Kakarrot, shut up and get away from me," Vegeta grumbled. He dragged himself forward with his arms, wincing with each movement. Goku heard his wheezing and saw the slick trail of blood he was leaving in his wake, but he didn't comment on it before running back out of the palace to reengage in battle against Garlic Jr.

No one else must have followed him in, as he was finally given the peace he wanted so he could catch his breath and regain a little strength. There was no relief from the sharp pain exploding through his chest. In truth he was surprised he wasn't already dead. But, surprising as that was, it didn't mean he had much longer to live. Not unless he could somehow find a way to heal instantly. He raised himself up on his elbows to look around the dark room. Over at the far side he could see Nappa and Gohan pulling themselves up to their feet, apparently too busy talking to have noticed his grand entrance.

Clearing his thoughts as best he could, Vegeta reached out with his mind to his bodyguard, no longer feeling up to the challenge of speaking. _"Nappa! Where's my woman?"_

Nappa looked over at his prince then, shocked when he saw the poor physical state he was in. "Vegeta, what the hell happened to you?" He hurried over to Vegeta and knelt down next to him. "Shit, how are you even alive?"

_"Good question, save it for later. Tell me she's alive or I swear I will kill you."_

Nappa glanced over his shoulder at the door Raditz went through earlier. "She's fine, but she was knocked out. Raditz is looking for her now. Where's Frieza, did you beat him?"

_"No, you idiot. The freak's immortal! There's no way to kill him."_

"Shit."

Vegeta coughed up more blood, watching detachedly as it spattered on the floor. The bright red fluid was filled with darker clots and some miniscule fragments of white bone. He panted for air after the coughing fit was over. He could practically feel his life slipping away. _"Does anyone have one of those fucking beans?"_

"Hey, kid!" Nappa yelled, turning back to Gohan. "You've got those beans, don't you?"

"Huh?" Gohan looked over at the two full-blooded saiyans, taking notice for the first time of Vegeta's critical condition. As he rushed over to Vegeta, he pulled a small brown sack out of his pocket. "Yeah, Raditz gave them to me! I've only got two, and it looks like he'll need both of them."

The saiyan prince accepted the first bean, but he pushed the other one away. "Save it," he said after swallowing the bean. He breathed a deep sigh of relief when a great deal of the pain eased and he felt the internal bleeding stop. It was a strange sensation feeling his body coming together again, but it left him feeling revived, though he still wasn't completely healed.

Once he felt the healing process ending, he stood up and stretched. Then, smirking, he turned back to the door where he heard the sounds of battle raging. Even without powering up he could feel a tremendous leap in his own strength. Maybe not enough to close the gap between himself and Frieza, but it would at least allow him to go for another round against the tyrant. Well, as soon as he took care of the thugs out there who hurt his pack.

"Brat, you're going to fight the purple freak out there. I'm taking big ugly. Nappa, go help Raditz find the others, and take the last bean in case one of them needs it. When you find them, get them out of here. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Nappa looked uneasily at his prince who was still showing signs of fatigue, but obediently he turned and ran through one of the other doorways and started searching for the Briefs and Goku's family and friends.

"Mr. Vegeta," Gohan said, "What about Kami and Mr. Popo? We have to free them so they can get the sacred water to the people of Earth."

"Fine, whatever, kid." Vegeta cracked his knuckles and lifted his chin proudly as he marched back outside to resume his fight with Mustard.

Gohan bit his bottom lip as he turned around and started searching the room for the two glass bottles. He had been unconscious when Garlic Jr. left the throne room with his minions, so he hadn't seen where he put the bottles. He hoped he didn't still have them. He scoured the room, and when he came up empty-handed, he started searching the adjoining rooms. Soon he found himself in a large, unlit room filled with ornate urns and cisterns. There, in the center of the room, was a table with a small jug on it, and next to the jug were the two bottles with Kami and Mr. Popo inside.

"That was almost too easy," Gohan thought out loud as he ran over to the table and picked up the bottles. As if to make sure there were no booby traps, he looked around the room again. Not seeing anything out of the ordinary – or at least what he assumed was ordinary – he broke the two bottles, releasing the Earth's guardian and his faithful caretaker. Instantly they grew back to their normal size.

"Thank you, Gohan," Kami said hastily as he picked up the jug from the table. "Are Garlic Jr. and his men still out there?"

Gohan nodded. "Yeah, but Vegeta, Raditz, and my dad are here now."

Kami held up the jug and turned to Mr. Popo. "There has to be a way to get the sacred water to every person on the planet."

"There is a way we can spread the sacred water everywhere quickly, Kami," Mr. Popo told him. "The seven air currents of the world flow just below your Lookout. You can go through there to get to them."

"Are you certain, Mr. Popo?"

"Yes. But I must warn you, this path will be dangerous."

"I understand, and I must go. Come on, Mr. Popo, we have no time to waste."

Kami turned back to Gohan while Mr. Popo got his magic carpet ready for the journey through the depths of the Lookout. "Tell the others they must hurry to defeat Garlic Jr. and his men. I can feel a greater evil approaching."

"Right!" Waving goodbye to them, Gohan ran out of the room of the sacred water and back out to the outside platform of the Lookout where three fierce battles were going. His father was still fighting Garlic Jr., now barely recognizable after bulking his body up to many times its original size. On the far side of the Lookout, he could see Piccolo battling against Spice, and Mustard and Vinegar were both fighting against Vegeta. Garlic and his men seemed to have impossible endurance, able to recover from essentially anything thrown at them. The only way he and Nappa managed to defeat Salt was by completely obliterating his body with a combined attack. Maybe that would be what it would take to defeat the others, too.

Remembering Vegeta's orders before he went to find Kami and Mr. Popo, Gohan headed over to instigate a fight against Vinegar. But as he was running across the platform, he felt a huge power level coming toward the Lookout from below, a power level that easily dwarfed all of those currently at the Lookout. There was only one person it could be: Frieza.

_A/N: Yes, now things are really heating up. And it keeps getting better. I'm writing chapter 69 now... it seems weird to finally be so near the end of the story. Only a few more to write and post..._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review, review, review!_


	68. Ascension

Ascension

Numbers continued to scroll across the red screen in front of his left eye as he ascended through the planet's atmosphere. Higher and higher he flew, yet surprisingly he grew closer to the sources of the power readings on his scouter. Bafflement and curiosity clouded his mind until his outrage was all but forgotten. At least, it was until he reached the strange floating palace in the sky. He had never seen such a place before, but his wonderment was cut short when he heard the telltale sounds of battle coming from its flat surface.

Frieza wasn't surprised when he saw the two saiyans battling on the Lookout, but he hadn't expected to find other warriors who were extremely strong – strong enough to put even his elite squadron (now deceased) to shame. For a moment he entertained the idea of recruiting them to replace the Ginyu Force, but he dismissed that thought. He wouldn't trust just anyone to hold such a high rank in his army; he needed be sure of their absolute, unrelenting loyalty and allegiance to him first. There were actually four smaller battles going on at once: Vegeta was fighting a large animalistic creature, the tailless saiyan who blinded him was fighting an enormous demonic-looking creature, a small boy was fighting another enormous brute with skin the same color as the late Captain Ginyu, and there was a Namekian – possibly the most surprising thing Frieza had seen all day – fighting a blue-skinned man with hair similar to the saiyan prince's, except pure white rather than coal black.

Deciding to settle in and watch the fighting for a while, Frieza hovered over the Lookout and landed on one of the high towers of the palace overlooking the demolished courtyard. To avoid short circuiting his scouter, he turned it off and tossed it aside. He already had the information he needed. Vegeta was weaker than he had been at his peak during their fight earlier, the tailless saiyan had a power nearly double that, the boy had a remarkable power level of about 300 thousand, and the Namekian was at 150,000 and falling. Though there was no way to be sure, Frieza assumed this fight had been going on for quite a while, which would explain the amount of destruction and the power levels that were dropping rather than rising.

'Well, this should be interesting,' he thought gleefully as he watched the saiyan prince take a hard punch that sent him sailing into the side of the central palace. 'But if any of those idiots gets too close to killing him I'll have to step in. I don't care what enemies he's made since he deserted, he's mine.'

…

The others were privy to Frieza's unexpected and unwanted arrival, but there was little they could do about it at the moment. Vegeta's ki spiked when he saw the lizard, giving him a slight edge against Mustard as he blasted him with a series of ki attacks. Goku ducked under a punch aimed at his head and caught a quick glimpse of the tyrant. Both of them were puzzled as to why Frieza would come, only to stay back and watch their battle against Garlic and his men play out. Frieza's presence did nothing for them mentally; with someone lacking in honor and abounding in sadism and cruelty, they had to be ready for an attack from any angle while trying to fight off these men who simply wouldn't die.

Goku phased behind Garlic Jr. and spun around, kicking him hard in the side of the head. Garlic fell to the floor, and while he was recovering, Goku flew over to where Gohan was blocking more punches from Vinegar than he was throwing. "Son! I need you to get out of here, right now!"

Gohan blocked another punch, but in his moment of distraction Vinegar was able to give him a devastating kick to the gut. He slid across the Lookout floor several yards before coming to a stop. "Why, Dad? I want to stay here and help!"

"Because Frieza is here," Goku said after phasing over to help his son back to his feet. "I don't know what he's doing, but I can't fight knowing you're in danger."

Shaking his head stubbornly, Gohan raised his hands above his head and started gathering energy. "I'm not leaving you, Dad. You need me."

Before Goku could protest further, Garlic Jr. phased behind him and swung a fist at his head, missing by less than an inch as Goku cocked his head to the side. He reached up, grabbed the demon's extended arm, and threw him over his shoulder, slamming him into the floor. The tile cracked and broke around him, leaving a body-shaped hole in the floor when Garlic jumped back to his feet.

Frustrated with his son's obstinacy and the resilience of Garlic Jr., Goku called out to his brother mentally, _"Raditz, have you found the others yet? Don't know if you felt him, but Frieza's here. You've got to get everyone to safety."_

There was a short pause before Raditz replied, _"Yeah, me and Nappa just found them. Do you think we can get away without him noticing?"_

_ "I don't know, but you've got to try. Tell them what's going on and get them out of here."_

_ "Whatever you say, brother." _Raditz cut off his telepathic link with his brother and sighed, turning to Nappa. "We got a big problem. Frieza's found the Lookout and they're all busy fighting this Garlic idiot and his henchmen. Kakarrot said to get these guys out of here right away."

Nappa looked around the strange room, wondering what it could possibly be used for. There was a circle drawn on the floor, clocks all over the walls, and a giant pendulum oscillating back and forth through the room. Pushing aside his curiosity, he knelt down next to Bulma, who was barely conscious. "Bulma, it's me, Nappa. Listen, Vegeta's having trouble with Frieza. I'm going to take you and your parents away in the spaceship, got it?"

Though his words sounded muddled to her, Bulma shook her head violently. "No way! I'm not leaving, and that's final!" Pushing him away, she struggled to her feet, supporting her weight by leaning against the wall. "Raditz, what's going on? Who were those men? Were you even there?"

Raditz frowned as he pulled Chi-Chi and Master Roshi to their feet. "The men you fought were Garlic Jr.'s lackeys. They're all outside fighting Kakarrot, Vegeta, Gohan, and Piccolo. But we have bigger problems to worry about, namely the fact that Frieza is here at the Lookout, every human on Earth has gone homicidal, and we have to get you all out of here to somewhere safe."

Chi-Chi, who had only just regained consciousness a few minutes earlier, perked up when she heard that her son was fighting at the Lookout. "Wait, you said Gohan's fighting? Here?"

Raditz hesitated, not liking the look in her eyes. "Yes."

The brunette woman exchanged a glance with Bulma before turning back to her brother-in-law. "And you expect me to leave?" she yelled. Pushing the stunned saiyan aside, Chi-Chi grabbed Bulma's hand and ran out of the room. She really had no idea which way to go in the mazelike palace, so she went in random directions until she finally found a doorway that led to the outer courtyard where all the fighting was taking place.

"Chi-Chi, what the hell are we supposed to do?" Bulma asked when she saw the four pairs of fighters beating each other senseless.

"I don't know!" Chi-Chi snapped. Then, pointing to their right she said, "Look, there's Gohan. Oh, my little baby! Look at that monster he's fighting. Come on, Bulma, we have to help him!"

Without waiting for a response, Chi-Chi darted over to where Gohan was fighting Vinegar in a relatively intact portion of the Lookout. Though she was sure she would regret her decision, Bulma followed after her. Once they reached the fight, Chi-Chi immediately leaped onto Vinegar's back and wrapped her slender arms around his neck, trying to strangle him so he would stop attacking her son. Counting on the element of surprise, Bulma dove between his legs and kicked his groin with every ounce of strength she could muster as she slid under him. Then, she jumped to her feet and started forming two ki orbs in her hands to fire at his exposed abdomen.

"Woman, what the hell are you doing?"

Bulma turned her head when she heard her mate roaring at her from across the Lookout. She never saw the fist that collided with her sternum, nor did she see the foot that swept her feet out from under her. Coughing, she sat up and pressed her hands against her chest, praying that she wouldn't feel anything broken. Luckily, it was just sore. She was definitely going to have a giant bruise there. Shakily, she rose to her feet just in time to be knocked to the floor again when Chi-Chi crashed into her.

'This was a very, very bad idea,' Bulma told herself as she again forced herself to stand. While she was relieved to see that Vinegar's attention had been diverted by Gohan resuming his fight, she was a little irritated that he thought she and Chi-Chi were such pushovers he didn't have to keep an eye on them once they were knocked down.

"Hey, you big freak!" she screeched. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

Gohan caught him with a left hook and followed up with a roundhouse kick that floored him. While his opponent was down, the demi-saiyan rushed over to the two women. "What are you doing? You're going to get yourselves hurt!"

"Don't you take that tone with me, young man!" Chi-Chi yelled. Her face was flushed as she stomped over to where Vinegar was still lying on the ground. Putting all her strength into her kick, she swung her foot forward, aiming for his ribs. But Vinegar was too fast and caught her leg before it hit, then pulled her off her feet and threw her to the ground.

The young warrior was about to defend his mother when Vegeta appeared next to him and grabbed his shoulder to restrain him. "Brat, we're switching opponents as of now."

Looking up at Vegeta's stern expression, Gohan nodded before turning and running over to where Mustard was staggering back to his feet. Once he was out of earshot, Vegeta turned to the two women with a fierce scowl. "What the hell are you fools doing? _Trying_ to get yourselves killed?"

Bulma frowned. "What would you have us do? Run away like a couple of cowards?"

Vegeta nearly roared with frustration as he jumped in front of Bulma to stop Vinegar from kicking her into the next dimension. "That's exactly what you're going to do!"

"Excuse me?" Chi-Chi shouted. "I'm not letting my baby fight alone!"

"Would you shut up, you insufferable harpy?" Vegeta screamed, raising his voice above hers. "Find Nappa, get your asses in the spaceship, and get the hell off this planet!"

Bulma opened her mouth to yell back at him, but she was cut off when he lunged at her, knocking her to the floor roughly. She was about to scream at him for it when she saw an orange-clad body shoot by, bowling over Vinegar before he could start another attack on them. Eyes wide, she looked up at Vegeta and swallowed hard. This wasn't a fight she could keep up in. This wasn't a friendly spar, it wasn't a training session. It finally struck her that she was involving herself in a life-or-death battle against inconceivably evil creatures.

"Fine, I'll go, Vegeta," she murmured. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "After I've helped kill this creep."

Rolling his eyes, Vegeta rose to his feet, pulling her up with him. "No, you will go immediately and leave 'this creep' to me." His eyes shifted over to where Frieza was still standing, watching. A fresh wave of unease swept over him when he saw the lizard perched up on the tallest tower of the palace, his tail twitching and coiling behind him with amusement.

Bulma followed his gaze until she, too, saw the alien tyrant. "Is – is that Frieza?" she squeaked. Behind her, Goku threw a powerful ki blast at Vinegar to keep him away from Chi-Chi. The shockwave nearly blew her off her feet, but she held onto Vegeta for support.

Vegeta nodded solemnly. "Yes, and now he's seen you and he will do everything in his power to use you against me. Foolish woman, you must leave now!"

"I hate to interrupt this moment, really," Vinegar said as he grabbed Vegeta by the neck and lifted him off the ground. "But I never did like soap operas."

Growling, Vegeta struggled to free himself from Vinegar's grasp. Though his power was greatly depleted, first from his battle with Frieza, then his fight with Mustard, Vegeta managed to pry the fingers off his neck. As he dropped down to the ground, he kicked his adversary in the gut and punched him several times, pushing him back a few paces. He was shocked when Chi-Chi ran up beside him and got a few good kicks in before being swept aside.

Chi-Chi rolled a few feet before climbing back to her feet and turning to run back to the fight when she saw someone heading toward her – fast. She screeched, jumping out of the way of the body, only able to tell once he reached her that it was Piccolo. Wincing when his body hit the floor, cracking the tile around him, she stood up and stepped closer to him. He didn't move, so she assumed he was down for the count. That meant there was another of Garlic's creeps lurking around somewhere, waiting to jump back into the action against anyone he could find.

Bulma whirled around when she heard Chi-Chi's scream, sighing in relief when she saw she wasn't being attacked. Then she felt a finger poking her left shoulder, startling her. She jumped, spinning around and lowering herself into her fighting stance. When she saw who it was, she immediately relaxed. "Chiaotzu, what are you doing here? I thought you were inside with the others."

The small doll-like man shook his head. "No, I wanted to come and help."

Smiling, Bulma nodded and turned around in a circle, surveying the area. Not far from where she was standing, Vegeta was still busy fighting Vinegar. Chi-Chi was standing back for the moment, also looking around. The other two fights were still going. "Okay, here's how you can help. I think I can kill this guy if I can find a weapon of some sort. Then, you can use your telekinesis to help me out, right?"

"Sure thing, Bulma!" Chiaotzu left her to find her weapon, turning to the closest battle and focusing his mental energies to slow Vinegar down to give Vegeta the advantage.

While Vegeta was busy holding Vinegar back, Bulma searched around for anything she could use as a weapon. She ran over to the central palace – or what remained of it – when she saw a piece of twisted metal sticking up out of the wreckage. Tugging it out of the rubble, she held it up and swung it around, testing its weight. Satisfied, she focused her ki and extended it through the piece of metal, making it into a makeshift weapon.

"Vegeta!" she called over to the saiyan prince, "Throw him over here!"

Vegeta looked over at her and saw what she was holding. He didn't know if it would work, but he caught Vinegar's leg when he tried to kick him and spun him around a few times, letting go at just the right moment to send him over to Bulma. He smirked when she brandished her weapon, forcing it straight through Vinegar's chest with a spurt of purple blood. Bulma dropped to the floor as soon as she stabbed him, ducking under his body as he continued flying across the Lookout as if in slow motion.

"That should take care of him," she muttered. She rolled over, grinning at Chiaotzu in thanks for helping with the finishing blow.

Chi-Chi ran over to Bulma and hugged her when she saw the giant man go down, presumably dead. "That was brilliant, Bulma!"

"Yeah, now let's get out of here!" Bulma said. She looked around again at all the fighting, fear replacing her feeling of smug triumph.

"Oh no, you're not going anywhere!"

Both women screamed when Vinegar pushed himself up to his hands and knees, then yanked the metal bar out of his chest and threw it aside. Before their eyes they could see his body healing itself, making it as if he was never injured. Not even a scar marked the spot where the metal pierced his body only a minute earlier.

"B-but how?" Bulma stammered. "You were dead!"

"Not for long." Vinegar grinned, pointing up at the dark sky. "See that bright star there? It's called the Makyo Star, and that's where we get our power. Long as it's aligned just right, we're unbeatable."

"That explains some things," Chi-Chi muttered, stepping back away from the fully recovered, very much alive man. Bulma backed away with her, both of them looking around frantically for help. But this time, no one was paying attention to them as anyone who witnessed Vinegar's fall surely thought he was dead and they were out of harm's way for the moment. Vegeta was helping Gohan fight Mustard now, Goku was back on the other side of the Lookout exchanging blows with Garlic Jr., and Chiaotzu had disappeared to help somewhere else. The only person left watching them aside from Vinegar was Frieza, and he wasn't likely to help their cause.

"Now where were we?"

Bulma, laughing nervously, answered, "We were just about to start running away." Spinning on her heel and grabbing Chi-Chi's wrist, she sprinted toward the palace, back the way they had come, leaping over piles of rubble and crawling forward when the floor shook beneath them. It felt like they were running for a lifetime when it reality it was only a few short seconds before Vinegar phased in front of them, a ball of ki held in his right hand.

"Which one of you wants to die first? I'll let you pick."

The women screamed again and turned to run away in the opposite direction, but they weren't fast enough. As soon as their backs were turned, Vinegar threw the ball of ki, making a direct hit.

The two saiyans both froze when they felt it, the surge of power indicative of a ki attack and the disappearance of another, much smaller ki. Goku was the first to look over, his heart dropping when he saw what happened. There, he saw Vinegar standing with his hand still outstretched, laughing boisterously over his kill. Slowly, Goku's eyes followed the hand, already knowing who the victim was. As if in a daze he caught Garlic Jr's fist, holding it away from his body with unusual ease.

"Chi-Chi…"

Unknowingly he squeezed the fist held in his hand until bones cracked and blood spewed out between his fingers. He felt like he was falling into a bottomless pit, his heart hammering in his chest and bile rising in his throat. Falling, sinking, drowning in darkness, in despair. In a single instant his life came crashing down around him as his life mate was taken from him. She never should have been there, never should have been hurt, but he should have been there to protect her and get her away safely. He felt her leave this world, as if feeling a part of his own body dying with only a void left behind. Now she was gone and he had nothing to fill his heart but insuperable regret. In the span of ten seconds he felt more emotion than his mind was able to contain. He tried to push it out, to make the pain ease, but that only left him feeling empty.

But then the emptiness became overwhelmingly oppressive, surrounding him on all sides and closing in. His breathing became ragged as he fought to control himself. For a minute all he could hear was his pulse rushing in his ears as his heart pounded in his chest. His skin felt like it would melt off his body from the heat of his energy bubbling just beneath the surface, ready to explode. It was agonizing, and yet it was exhilarating. He needed to let it out, needed to free himself. A fire of fury ignited in the pit of his stomach where there was nothingness before. The fire swelled and burned, becoming a physical ache in his gut. With a sudden influx of power he broke free from the shackles of his previous limitations, his rage pushing him far beyond what he ever imagined was possible.

As he fell into the torrent of emotions, riding the waves of his fury, the air around him crackled with sparks of electricity and the floor around his feet cracked and broke. His vision faded to red, then cleared until every feature of his surroundings stood out with perfect definition, as if he was truly seeing for the first time. Every sensation was bright, vibrant; he felt like he was being reborn into something greater than before. At first he held himself in check, wary of the changes he might undergo, but the call to give in was too great. Like a siren his emotions beckoned him to give in, let it all go, become this new man, this higher being.

His aura erupted around him, morphing into a brilliant gold light that flared around him, the physical manifestation of the raw fury burning in the core of his being. Surplus ki flooded through his veins, infusing every muscle fiber in his body. He could feel primal power boiling in his blood, bringing both a sense of relief as well as a deeper feeling of rage, rage that he wanted to dive into, indulge in, surround himself with. It was liberating, empowering. He could feel his strength growing, crossing boundaries he thought would kill him; he needed this power, and he was going to use it to avenge the death of his mate. Never before had he so fully given into his emotions, and never before had he known such pure hatred as that which was threatening to steal away his very self. Time slowed to a crawl as he pivoted his body to face his kill, the one responsible for this transformation.

He appeared in front of Vinegar so fast no one saw him move, not even Frieza. Holding his hand out, palm facing the giant man, he gathered a glowing orb of energy that easily incinerated Vinegar's body, leaving nothing more than a wisp of smoke where he once stood. The next second he appeared behind Mustard, swinging around in a kick that took the creature's head off his shoulders effortlessly. Blasting the remains into ash, Goku flew over to the opposite end of the Lookout and disabled Spice in three quick punches before firing a beam of ki that engulfed him completely.

Those remaining were left gaping as Goku slowly, steadily stalked over to where Garlic Jr. was left standing, cradling his mangled hand while trembling with anger. Vegeta was the first to form words, though even he was unable to raise his voice above a whisper. "The legendary…"

Gohan, who was left hovering in the air ready to kick his opponent, landed and looked over at his father. He glowed with an ethereal light, his wild hair upswept in a golden flame as if it, too, was charged with unfathomable power. "Daddy?" He was too stunned by his father's strange new appearance and merciless killing to even think about his mother's sudden death.

"Gohan," Goku said, his tone hard and unrelenting, so unlike his normal self, "Get the others out of here _now_. No arguing!"

While Gohan ran back into the palace to find Raditz, Nappa, and all the others who were hiding from the danger, Goku fixed his cold glare on Garlic Jr., the true mastermind behind his wife's death and the first immortal to die. His piercing teal eyes sent a shiver of fear running down Garlic's spine before he regained control, taking his stance against the super saiyan. In a flash he was sent flying high above the Lookout from a single punch.

Meanwhile, Frieza decided it was time for him to step in. Since he no longer had any live entertainment playing out before him, he would have to resume his battle with Vegeta. He landed a few feet in front of the saiyan prince, a smirk growing on his black lips. "Well, Vegeta, it seems you couldn't hide from me, after all. Though why you would lead me here of all places, I couldn't begin to guess. Did you want me to exploit your petty attachments?"

Vegeta growled when he saw the tyrant's red eyes fixed on his woman. With one swift movement he placed himself between Frieza and Bulma, set on defending her if it killed him – and, considering Frieza's power, it would. "You still think you'll beat me? Even if you do, you will still die at the hands of a saiyan. Kakarrot has ascended to the legendary super saiyan, you idiot!"

Frieza clucked his tongue as he began circling around the prince. "And how does that make you feel, monkey? To know that you, the 'Prince of all Saiyans' has been surpassed by a third-class piece of trash?" The lizard burst into laughter as he taunted Vegeta, thoroughly enjoying his frustration and helplessness. "And how does it make you feel to know that you have to rely on him to defeat me, even knowing that super saiyan or not, he still hasn't got a chance!"

Vegeta took a step forward menacingly, his ire building with every word Frieza spoke. "I won't have to rely on him because I can kill you myself."

"You always did talk big," Frieza spat, slapping Vegeta to the floor with his tail. "But you could never back it up."

Leaping back to his feet, Vegeta powered up and charged at Frieza. He saw no point in holding back, not when he was so severely outclassed and when he was so desperate to get Frieza away from the Lookout. He got a solid punch on Frieza's chest, but he was kicked away as if he were utterly powerless. Flying through the air, Vegeta groaned and allowed himself to fall off the Lookout, hoping the lizard would follow him. Though he could have stopped himself or slowed his descent, he let himself keep falling hundreds of feet. Up above, he could see a golden flame darting through the air back and forth. Kakarrot. A super saiyan. It was disgusting, it was humiliating, but most of all it was infuriating. How the hell did _he _ascend to the legendary? Why at that moment? It didn't make sense, and Vegeta's confusion only angered him more.

When he didn't feel Frieza chasing after him, he became concerned. He left Bulma up there with him, how stupid could he be? Stopping his freefall, Vegeta thrust his ki under him and flew back up to the Lookout. There, he was surprised to see Frieza was nowhere near Bulma, but rather being kept on the defensive as Goku switched between beating him and Garlic Jr. One super saiyan against two immortals, could he win? Taking his opportunity, Vegeta ran over to where Bulma was standing, watching the fight instead of making her escape.

"Woman, are you insane?" he growled, grabbing her shoulders. "How many times do I have to tell you to get the hell out of here?"

Bulma frowned, pushing his hands away. "Don't tell me what to do, Vegeta! It looks like Goku's got things under control. What happened to him anyway? He's blonde!"

Shaking his head at her idiocy, Vegeta started pushing her toward the central palace to find Raditz and the others. He could feel their ki still inside, which only further irritated him because he wanted them to get away to safety. When they reached the main entrance outside the guardian's throne room, they were nearly bowled over as the refugees came running out, hoping that they would have safety in numbers. They were led by Raditz and Gohan with Nappa was bringing up the rear.

"Vegeta!" Raditz said when he saw his prince. "You're okay! But whose power…?"

"Your brother," Vegeta spat. "Hurry up, while Frieza and Garlic are busy, get them away from the Lookout. Hell, take them off the planet!"

Those who hadn't yet seen Goku's transformation turned to the fight and stood watching in awe. Most of the time Goku was little more than a golden blur skimming through the sky, balancing his fight with Garlic Jr. and Frieza with ease. If they hadn't been immortal, they would have been showing greater fatigue than they were, and surely more wounds. Atypical of the earthling saiyan's normal behavior, he was showing ruthlessness that would have made Vegeta proud any other time. As it was, his success against Frieza only made the prince more upset. Why couldn't he have been the one to transform if anyone? Why Kakarrot? Why?

Disregarding his tumultuous thoughts for the moment, Vegeta shoved Bulma over to Raditz and phased out of sight, reappearing behind Frieza and blasting him in the back with a strong beam of ki. Frieza, though surprised, was hardly fazed by the attack and spun around, punching Vegeta in the jaw. The lizard flew along with Vegeta before overtaking him, crashing his fists down on his head, and ramming his knee into his chest.

"Oh, no! Vegeta!" Bulma cried out, seeing him so easily hurt. It didn't even look like he was trying to defend himself as Frieza continued beating him.

Raditz caught her arm and pushed her over to Nappa. "No, Bulma, you can't stay here. Go with Nappa. I'll stay here and help him."

In a matter of seconds Vegeta felt like every bone in his body was broken, shattered. He could barely breathe for all the blood in his lungs. Every move he made to attack Frieza felt sluggish, forced, and he was unable to ever hit his target. He could hear Frieza mocking him, but the words jumbled together and lost meaning as he fought to remain conscious. Frieza seemed to be everywhere at once, always a step ahead and always just out of reach. He could block and dodge every kick and punch Vegeta threw, he could deflect any ki attack. Untouchable, undefeatable. Every blow that landed on his already battered body sucked away another large portion of his energy. His limbs felt like lead weighing him down. There was no way to win.

He collided with one of the few remaining palm trees, breaking clean through the trunk after Frieza threw him with his tail. Damn that tail, if only he could cut it off somehow. Who was he kidding? He still wouldn't be able to win. What was he thinking trying to kill an immortal? It was absurd. Stupid. Rolling onto his stomach, he pushed himself slowly up to his hands and knees, coughing up blood and panting heavily.

Closing his eyes, he rose to his feet using more will than strength. He swayed, nearly losing his balance and toppling over. When he opened his eyes, he didn't see Frieza in front of him as he expected. No, instead he saw a cascade of spiky black hair. Raditz. His brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. Why would Raditz be standing there?

Frieza smirked when he saw the low-class saiyan standing between him and the saiyan prince, his lips turned down in a determined frown. "Well, well, look what we have here. It appears you saiyans are more like roaches than I thought. Kill one and it comes back for more."

Raditz snorted. He'd long since lost count of how many people thought he was dead. Not in the mood to banter, he replied with a ki blast to the face. After the explosion, he phased over to Frieza and dropped into a sweep kick, flooring the tyrant before blasting him with another beam of ki. He jumped into the air, gathering energy in both hands, readying his trademark attack, when Frieza shot out of the cloud of smoke and dust and fired lasers from his eyes. They barely missed Raditz, singeing some of his hair.

"I should have killed every one of you monkey pests from the start!" Frieza yelled as he caught up with Raditz and punched him hard in the chest. Fragments of his armor cut into his body from the impact. He yelled in pain, covering his wound with his hands. While he was riding the throes of agony, Frieza kicked him down to the Lookout, killing him in two fast blows.

Vegeta stood by, watching helplessly as his comrade and friend was fatally wounded after being so easily overpowered by his former tormentor, the tyrant he feared he would never be free from. When he saw Raditz's lifeless body crash into the floor several yards from him, he dropped to his knees, jaw going slack. He berated himself for letting this happen. Before his very eyes Frieza killed yet another of his race, one of the few left for him to lead and protect. But it was more than duty to him; since his last torture at Frieza's hands, both he and Nappa had been more than comrades, more than servants to the throne. He depended on them when he was helpless and lost, they were his anchors when he lost himself in the depths of insanity. It was his need to avenge Raditz that brought him back to Earth in the first place. Now, now he was really going to die even though he had been there. Useless. Failure. Worthless. Weak.

His hands clenched into fists and pounded against the cracked tile, leaving bloody smears on its polished white surface. Damn it all, he was unworthy to be called the Prince of all Saiyans. He let his people down again, and he would never be able to satisfy their cries for vengeance. Even in death they called to him, pleaded for him to spill Frieza's blood. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't uphold their pride and he couldn't save the last of his race. Maybe Kakarrot _was_ their only hope now. Pathetic! A third-class dog who could barely be considered saiyan. The savior of their race? The one to kill Frieza at last?

He felt his frustration pushing him to the edge of his sanity. How many times had he failed that day? How many more times would he fail before he was finally killed? Through blurred vision he looked over at Raditz's still form. It was almost too much to bear. He turned his gaze back to the floor in front of him, hardly noticing as teardrops splashed on the tile, intermingling with his blood. He felt a tightness in his chest as emotions swelled inside, gnawing at him, seeking an outlet. Out of habit he held them in check, forcing them back, trying to remain in control. He couldn't let emotions cloud his judgment, break his focus.

"There, there, Vegeta," Frieza's icy voice crawled over his skin, "There's no need to be afraid to die. I promise I'll make it quick."

The saiyan prince lifted his chin, giving his last show of defiance as he met the tyrant's gaze, unwavering as Frieza lifted his hand, pointing his index finger at him. This was it: the moment of his death had finally come. He swallowed back the lump in his throat and waited silently for his executioner to fire.

"Bang." Frieza's finger glowed red for a split second before a narrow beam of ki shot out, aimed directly at his heart. But it never hit.

Vegeta snarled as he fell to the floor, the world seeming to spin around him. The coppery taste of blood seeped into his mouth from biting his lip when his chin hit the ground. He felt oddly cheated as he spat out the blood. "What the fuck?"

He scrambled to sit up, his eyebrows arching when he saw who pushed him out of the line of fire. The person who died in his place. A puddle of deep red blood grew until it surrounded his hand, mixing with his own blood. He felt every safeguard he erected in his mind crashing down as he finally slipped over the edge. Rationality fell away as pure, unadulterated emotion took hold of him.

'Now where did that one come from?' Frieza was, at first, annoyed that he hadn't killed Vegeta when he meant to, but when he saw the expression of horror on the prince's face, he considered it a lucky accident. At first a slight chuckle rumbled in his chest, but it soon burst into euphoric laughter. Unintentionally he struck the lowest blow imaginable. In his mirth, he hardly noticed the change overcoming the saiyan prince. At least, not until tremors began to shake the Lookout. Pieces of debris rattled and lifted off the ground and bolts of unnatural lightning lit up the night sky.

"What? What's going on? What is this?" Frieza stepped back from Vegeta, his eyes widening when he saw the saiyan's onyx eyes flash teal and his hair flickered from black to gold. Even the fur on his tail changed to the strange color. "Not him too!"

Vegeta growled so loudly Frieza could feel its vibrations several feet away. He took another hesitant step back, fearing what he had created. Suddenly he felt something land on his back, then arms wrapped around his neck in an ineffective stranglehold. At first he was too shocked to fight back, but then he wrenched the arms off and threw the culprit into a pile of rubble. He snarled when he saw that it was the blue-haired female Vegeta was protecting earlier. Foolish woman!

The saiyan uttered an unearthly howl as his ki broke free from its constraints. He felt power like never before coursing through him, like water bursting through a dam. Frustration, rage, helplessness, protectiveness, _need_. They all washed over him in a burning wave of power and emotion. He opened his teal eyes, glaring at the cause of his pain. Through his emotions his mind reached a new kind of clarity. Every sense was heightened, his strength continued building; he could perceive his reflexes quickening, his speed racing. But above all else was the _need_. The need to kill the sadistic bastard who killed his mother.

_A/N: No comment._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	69. Dead Zone

Dead Zone

It had been a long, perilous journey through the land of the former guardians, but Mr. Popo finally made it to their destination: the place where the seven air currents of the world converged under the Lookout. Though they had been ruthlessly attacked by the spirits of the former guardians and Kami nearly faded into a specter, his determination pushed him forward through danger and confrontations with the angered spirits. Nothing was going to stand in his way as he sought to save the world from a terrible fate, leaving all the people of Earth to remain under the control of the black water mist. In the end, Kami was willing to sacrifice his own life for the sake of the Earth, sending Mr. Popo ahead with the sacred water while the spirits of the guardians continued attacking him, punishing him for coming into their hallowed realm before he was dead.

Trembling, Mr. Popo uncapped the jug of sacred water and stepped over to the brass fixture where wind gusted into the large, empty room. Though fearful of what would happen to his master, Mr. Popo pushed aside his desire to go back and help Kami and upturned the jug over the opening, emptying the sacred water into the seven air currents to distribute across the globe as a mist. Every person who breathed it in would be cured of the effects of the black water mist, restoring their humanity. That threat, at least, would be over. After the sacred water was all poured out, Mr. Popo turned and ran back to the realm of the former guardians to help Kami get back out with his life intact.

…

Vegeta slowly rose to his feet, growing accustomed to the new feeling of power flooding through him. At first he wasn't sure his body could accommodate the influx of ki, but after he completed his transformation he wasn't sure how he lived at all without it. For the first time in his life he felt truly alive, on fire, as if he had awakened to realize his full potential, his destiny. But along with that feeling was the persistent guilt, that _need_ that stemmed from the death of one of the people he cared for most: Mrs. Brief. He looked down at her pale body, still warm though her lifeblood drained from the hole through her chest. Gritting his teeth, he turned his teal gaze to Frieza. If not for the cause of his transformation, he would have laughed, jeered at the lizard for pushing him to become what he feared most, but under the given circumstances he saw no reason to rejoice. All he knew was that he finally had the strength he needed to defeat the scourge of the universe, his personal boogeyman.

Sinking into his fighting stance, a golden haze shimmered around his body. He gained no satisfaction as Frieza gaped at him wide-eyed, noticeably shaking in terror as he backpedaled a few paces. If anything he was disgusted by the show of cowardice and ashamed that he lived three decades in fear of such a loathsome creature. His lip curled contemptuously as he lunged forward, striking Frieza with a hard uppercut and kicking him into the floor so fast it was as if the rest of the world stood still around him.

Nearby, he could hear the sounds of Goku's battle with Garlic Jr. It was fitting, really, that they both ascended to avenge their loved ones. Goku could defeat Garlic, but Frieza was Vegeta's to kill. Immortal or not, he was going to die one way or another, even if he had to rip him to shreds and blast the pieces to hell a hundred times over. And if he somehow came back, he would just keep killing him until he was too afraid to bother returning again. Vegeta's natural aggressive drive had become more primal, fiercer than ever before, even as an oozaru. He wanted bloodshed, he wanted to cause Frieza the most excruciating suffering before he ended his pitiful existence. With wrath unequaled he began assailing Frieza, never pausing between attacks as he alternated between hand-to-hand combat and ki techniques.

Frieza was unable to go on the offensive as he continually blocked crushing blows that would have killed a weaker warrior. He grew more and more desperate as the seconds ticked by, though to him it felt like hours, days. Immortality did not provide him infinite endurance and stamina; he was growing weary as Vegeta only seemed to become stronger, faster. He wouldn't be able to keep up much longer if he didn't increase his power. He never would have dreamt he would need to use his maximum power to defeat a monkey, but as it was, he was using only a small fraction of his true power and losing horribly.

The tyrant squeezed his eyes shut, tensing his muscles as he prepared himself to take another hard punch to the gut, but it didn't come. Confused, he opened his eyes but didn't see Vegeta in front of him anymore. Spinning around, he was too late to dodge as an enormous blue-green body hurtled into him, knocking him into the floor with an explosion of dust and bits of tile. He was stunned as he scrambled to his feet, balling his hands into fists as he expected another attack from the saiyan prince at any moment.

Garlic Jr. slid to the edge of the Lookout, crying out in pain from the kick that sent him sailing across the Lookout. He tried to regain his breath as he sat up, only then noticing how close he was to the edge and falling off. His breath hitched in his throat when he saw something strange below the Lookout, a cloud of amber mist floating over the horizon, spreading in every direction as the wind carried it through the atmosphere. "What? What is this?" he yelled.

Goku appeared next to him, also looking down. "The sacred water. Kami and Mr. Popo made it."

"What?" Garlic howled, "No! It can't be! My plan! You ruined everything!"

Snarling, Goku flipped back into a handspring, his feet kicking Garlic's chin with extreme force. He sprung back to his feet and blasted the giant immortal with a blindingly bright beam of ki that tore a hole straight through his chest. Garlic stumbled back a few steps, nearly losing his balance on the very edge of the Lookout. Throwing his weight forward, he fell to his knees and gasped for air before standing again, his wound healing unnaturally fast.

"Fool! When will you learn you can't kill me?" Garlic taunted.

Goku blasted him again, this time in the face. The attack wasn't nearly as powerful as the last, so it did little more than knock Garlic off his feet and burn his face. But that wound also healed. "If I can't kill you I'll send you back to where you came from!"

Before Garlic could retort with another witless remark, Goku phased out of sight, making way for a small white body to collide with Garlic, sending both over the edge of the Lookout. Goku reappeared next to Vegeta to watch as the two immortals fell. "What'd you do that for?"

"Repaying the favor."

Goku smirked a little before flaring his ki and going after his opponent, Vegeta right behind him. Frieza and Garlic had only fallen about twenty feet before the saiyans phased below them and kicked them back up to the Lookout to continue their battles. They split up then, and resumed beating the immortals with legendary strength. Only a few minutes into their fight almost the entire palace had been leveled. What was once a sanctuary had become a war zone, marred by the explosions and drenched with blood. Aside from Kami and Mr. Popo in the deepest bowels of the Lookout, the place was deserted; Nappa and Gohan had successfully relocated everyone who was still alive to Korin's Tower down below, not sure if it was yet safe to take them anywhere else on the planet.

Vegeta beat Frieza down into the ground again and stood with his foot on his chest, grinding him into the broken tile floor. "Tell me, Frieza, did you really think you could destroy my race and not suffer any consequence?"

Frieza gasped for air, shaking his head. "No – please, Vegeta. You don't want – to fight me like this. You want – a real challenge. I know you. Let me reach – my full power."

"Your full power?" Vegeta raised an eyebrow and removed his foot from the lizard's chest. "Show me."

Coughing, Frieza staggered to his feet and tried to hide his triumphant smirk as he started powering up, a purple aura blazing up around him as his power quickly doubled, then tripled. Still it rose as his muscles bulked and throbbing veins rose on his body. With a screeching wail he pushing his ki to its maximum, to a level he hadn't ever needed in a fight before. It had been so long since he ever pushed himself to his limit he hardly remembered how good it felt.

Goku paused in his fight with Garlic, glancing over his shoulder at Vegeta and Frieza. Frowning, he projected his thoughts to Vegeta. _"What are you doing? Why are you letting him power up?"_

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest as he turned to glare at the younger saiyan across the Lookout. _"He said he wasn't at his full power. I want him to fight at his true strength so that when I defeat him he knows he never had a chance. Surely you can understand that, Kakarrot."_

_ "How do you know you'll be strong enough?" _His thoughts were laced with a feeling of envy, as if he wished that he, too, could engage in such a challenge. Garlic Jr. was able to withstand basically any punishment, but he still wasn't very strong.

_ "Don't ask me stupid questions."_ Vegeta sneered as he turned his attention back to the lizard.

Shrugging, Goku turned around and caught Garlic's fist, then swung him around and released him into a pile of rubble. He leaped high into the air and started gathering energy in his hands to blast a beam of ki down on the rubble before his immortal opponent could emerge. He held his arm in front of his face to protect his eyes from the flying debris of the resulting explosion, so he didn't see Garlic launching himself out of the blast. Before he knew what was happening he took a punch to the gut and a knee to the groin, then as he doubled over in pain, an elbow crashed down on the back of his head. He spiraled down to the ground, landing hard on his hands and knees. Ignoring the discomfort, he hopped back to his feet and blasted into the air to meet Garlic halfway, starting another flurry of lightning fast kicks and punches, almost all of which were delivered to Garlic.

Vegeta was getting impatient by the time Frieza finally stopped his ululations and breathed a heavy sigh, his aura fading as he reached his full power. "Well, it's about time. But I have to say after all that waiting I'm rather disappointed."

"Disappointed?" Frieza shouted. "I'll show you disappointed!" With increased speed he pointed his finger at Vegeta and shot at him with a death beam. He was stunned when Vegeta made no move to dodge, taking the beam head-on without a mark to show for it. Not believing what he saw, Frieza continued blasting him with death beams until Vegeta lost all patience and phased over to him, punching him hard in the jaw and grabbing his arm, wrenching it from its socket as he whipped him around into a crumbling wall. Frieza's body broke through the stone, so Vegeta continued swinging him around before throwing him high above the Lookout and blasting him with a barrage of ki balls.

"You're nothing!" he growled as he phased over to Frieza and took hold of his tail, digging his fingers into the soft flesh until he drew blood. With a roar Vegeta threw him back down to the Lookout and flew after him, driving his heels into Frieza's prone body. He cocked his head to the side as a stray beam of ki shot past from the other fight. Looking over, he saw that it was Goku who fired and missed his target by a long-shot.

_"Watch where you're aiming, Kakarrot!" _Vegeta hissed mentally. _"Don't tell me you're getting tired already."_

Goku laughed out loud, confusing Garlic, who was charging up a ki attack of his own. _"No way! I just underestimated his speed a little bit."_

_ "Right," _Vegeta snorted, _"then why do you look so exhausted? I can see you panting like a dog from here!"_

_ "Okay, so maybe I'm a _little _tired. Yeesh, it's not that big of a deal. He just won't stay down."_

_ "I could keep him down."_

_ "I bet you couldn't."_

_ "Don't be a fool!"_

_ "I'd like to see you do it, then!"_

_ "Fine, I will. You can use this lizard as a punching bag while I show you how a true warrior fights." _Smirking smugly, Vegeta kicked Frieza in the side of the head before hopping over his body and strutting over to where Goku had Garlic Jr. caught with a wristlock.

Matching the prince's smirk and rolling his eyes, Goku shoved Garlic to the floor as he walked over to Frieza and roughly pulled him to his feet before punching him in the face. Meanwhile, Vegeta circled around his new opponent appraising him before jumping into the air to execute a butterfly kick. The large demon reeled back from the blow, but he stayed on his feet and by the time Vegeta landed, his hands were glowing with ki ready to attack.

But he was too slow and by the time he released his ki, Vegeta had disappeared, phasing in behind him and blasting a hole through his chest with a powerful beam of ki. Garlic fell forward, gurgling as blood rose in his throat and choked him. Vegeta stood next to him, crossing his arms over his chest. As far as he was concerned, that was entirely too easy, but then he saw Garlic rising to his hands and knees, the hole in his chest filling in. His eyebrow rose, but otherwise he showed no outward sign of his surprise and irritation.

'So that's what Kakarrot meant when he said he can't be kept down.' Vegeta spat on the ground as he stalked around to face Garlic, already gathering ki in his hands for his next attack. He scowled when Garlic threw himself back a few yards, firing a blast of ki at him. Vegeta took the hit at point blank range, which threw him back across the Lookout. Growling, he regained his composure and flew back over to his opponent, kneeing him in the gut and throwing a ball of ki in his face before roundhouse kicking him into the remains of a column of the palace. Hovering off the floor, Vegeta looked down when he saw Goku slide across the tile and crash head-first into what was once a wall. Turning the other way, he saw Frieza flying high above the Lookout, hands extended above his head as he started forming his ultimate attack of desperation.

"You can't beat me, you disgusting monkeys!" Frieza yelled. "I'll destroy the whole planet before I let you defeat me!"

Quickly glancing over his shoulder at Goku and seeing he was still recovering from that last blow, Vegeta shot into the air to stop Frieza from blowing up Earth. Panic pushed him to go faster; he couldn't let this planet go the same way as his home planet. This was his pack's home, his woman's home… He wouldn't let them lose what he lost so many years ago. Roaring with anger, he rapidly closed the gap between the Lookout and Frieza, fists poised to strike down the tyrant before he could release his attack.

But Vegeta didn't make it to Frieza first. A beam of energy flew past him and hit the lizard square in the chest while he was vulnerable with his arms raised and unable to block the attack. Looking back down at the demolished palace, Vegeta expected to see Goku standing there, but instead he saw Garlic Jr. glaring at Frieza, panting after hurling a huge portion of his remaining energy at him to stop the attack on the planet. Then, while Frieza was still in shock from being blind-sided, Garlic rose into the air and extended his arms with his hands pointing toward Frieza. More confused than ever, Vegeta turned around again and saw a spherical field of energy surrounding Frieza's body and closing in, shrinking the tyrant's body with it.

'What the fuck is going on?' Vegeta slowly moved away from Frieza, not wanting to get trapped in the energy field as well. Keeping his eye on the tiny form of Frieza, he watched as he was pulled back down to the Lookout and grasped in Garlic's hand. In the demon's other hand, a small glass bottle appeared from thin air. Once the bottle was created, the energy around Frieza appeared to evaporate his body and a cloud of what must have been Frieza's essence moved into the bottle, sealing itself in its glass prison.

Garlic Jr. held up the bottle victoriously, pointing with his free hand to the sky above. "You fool! I will not let you destroy this planet – it is mine! And now you'll be trapped in here forever. Don't even try to break free; this glass is too strong for you to break. I created it with the power of the Makyo Star!" He broke into a fit of maniacal laughter, not noticing as the saiyan prince lowered himself to the Lookout and turned his gaze up to the sky, trying to figure out which star was the source of the demon's power. There was one particularly bright star with a slight reddish tint, one he hadn't ever noticed before in all the times he looked up at the night sky during his stay on Earth, both as a child and an adult. Since it was out of the ordinary, he figured that had to be the star Garlic Jr. was referring to.

"Hey, you overgrown midget," Vegeta barked. "I'd thank you for humiliating Frieza, but you see, fate has reserved that honor for _me._" When Garlic turned to see who was addressing him with a noted lack of respect, Vegeta leaped forward and caught the arm holding Frieza, forcing Garlic to drop the bottle. It landed on the floor, and whereas Vegeta expected it to break on impact, it bounced across the tile several feet before turning on its side and rolling in a circle. Inside, Frieza was obviously dizzy and hurting from the rough treatment.

The tiny Frieza shook his head to clear it, then maneuvered himself so he could see both Vegeta and Garlic Jr. A throbbing vein rose on his forehead as he started pounding his fists against the glass and shouting unheard obscenities. Vegeta walked over to the bottle and picked it up, purposely shaking it around more than necessary. "Well now, what do we have here? If only your lapdogs were here to see this! You've finally been reduced to what you really are: a sniveling little lizard."

"Vegeta, are you really going to just leave him in there?"

Vegeta shifted his eyes over to the other super saiyan and shrugged. "Of course not, you clown. This is much too dignified for him."

Taking advantage of the fact that neither of the saiyan warriors were paying attention to him, Garlic scrambled to his feet and backpedaled away from them. Then, summoning all the power invested in him by the Makyo Star, he unlocked the Dead Zone. High above, the night sky appeared to shatter like a broken mirror and fall away, revealing the swirling vortex that would suck up anything in its path to send to the eternal void.

Both Goku and Vegeta turned then, crying out in shock when they saw what had happened. Only Goku knew what it was, but Vegeta could guess easily enough that it was something he shouldn't dive into. Still holding Frieza's bottle, Vegeta started running over to where Garlic was standing, laughing triumphantly as the smaller pieces of debris lifted off the ground and flew into the Dead Zone.

"You will not defeat me!" Garlic shouted. "You and everyone you love will be swallowed up into the Dead Zone where you will stay for all eternity! There is no escape!"

In the split second it took for Vegeta to reach Garlic Jr., the Dead Zone had already started pulling in the larger pieces of rubble, in effect sucking in the entire Lookout. Vegeta could feel it tilting beneath him as he ran. Casting Frieza aside for the time being, he lunged at Garlic and knocked him to the floor, landing on his chest and mercilessly beating him until blood spewed from his inflicted wounds.

"Close it!" he snarled. "Close the damned Dead Zone!"

Despite the pain, Garlic Jr. laughed at the prince's demand. "You fool, I won't close it until everything has been swallowed up and nothing remains but darkness!"

Growling, Vegeta moved off him and caught Frieza's bottle before it, too, got taken by the vortex. "Kakarrot! You defeat this idiot! I'm going to destroy Frieza."

Nodding, Goku phased over to Garlic Jr. and stepped on his chest, kicking him back down to the floor as he tried to get up. "We have to end this fast, Vegeta. The Dead Zone's going to take everything!"

Vegeta ground his teeth as he glanced around the ruined courtyard of the palace. He could feel the suction of the vortex trying to pull him in, but he remained grounded. About to break the top off of Frieza's glass bottle to release him, he paused when he saw a large chunk of stone fly into the sky, disintegrating as the pressure of the vortex crushed it. Behind the stone was the body of Raditz, which also began to rise.

"No!" With preternatural speed Vegeta leaped over to Raditz and grabbed his foot as the Dead Zone tried to pull him in. With his hands full now, he wouldn't be much use in a fight. Another bolt of panic coursed through him when he realized Mrs. Brief's body would also be sucked into the void if he didn't stop it. Still holding onto Frieza and Raditz, he rushed over to where his surrogate mother fell. Fortunately, during the fight following her death, a column fell on her, anchoring her down, but it was only a matter of time before the Dead Zone drew the column in, and then her body.

_"Kakarrot!" _he screamed across their telepathic link, _"The bodies! If the Dead Zone sucks them up, can they be wished back with the dragon balls or does the dragon bring them back to life where they're at?"_

Momentarily distracted by the invading thought, Goku took a hard hit and fell to the floor. Garlic Jr. loomed over him as his head swam from the blow to his head. _"They'll be wished back to life where they're at. Oh, no! Vegeta, get the bodies and take them somewhere safe! I'll take care of Garlic."_

Growling, Vegeta kicked the column off of Mrs. Brief's body, now cold, pale, and crushed. With a pained grimace, Vegeta knelt down and hooked his arm around her waist and took off for the edge of the Lookout, hoping Korin's Tower would be far enough down that they would be safe there so he could return and defeat Frieza.

Goku threw himself back to his feet and blocked another punch before driving his knee into Garlic's solar plexus, temporarily incapacitating him. He caught a glimpse of Vegeta running away with Raditz, Mrs. Brief, and Frieza. His eyes widened when he realized Vegeta was missing a body. _"Vegeta, wait! You have to find Chi-Chi!"_

Vegeta hesitated, coming to a stop as he glared over at Goku. _"I don't know where your harpy is! Find her yourself."_

_ "Damnit, Vegeta! If it were Bulma you know I'd go back for her!"_

Howling in frustration, Vegeta turned back and started picking through the rubble. He didn't care much for the banshee and he didn't care about Goku's opinion of him, but he knew it was the _right_ thing to do, or at least what his own woman would want him to do. It wasn't long before he uncovered Chi-Chi's body, nearly losing it to the Dead Zone before he could wrap his tail around her wrist and drag her behind him as he retreated from the Lookout to get the bodies to a safer location. He dove off the edge of the Lookout, heading down to Korin's Tower, when Garlic Jr. suddenly appeared in front of him to block his path.

"You're not going anywhere!" Garlic snarled.

Vegeta frowned before moving forward and flipping backwards, delivering a swift bicycle kick to Garlic's jaw. "I'll be back. Don't miss me too much!" While Garlic's body flew back a few feet where he was caught in a chokehold by Goku, Vegeta resumed his descent. It only took a few seconds for him to reach the top of the tower, and there he could still feel the growing suction of the Dead Zone high above. Dropping down to the staircase wrapping around the tower, he looked around until he spotted the refugees.

"Nappa!" he stepped inside and dropped the three bodies on the floor, showing extra care only to Mrs. Brief. "There's some kind of vortex sucking everything in. I need you to get everyone as far away from it as you can."

The bald saiyan hurried over to the three bodies and nodded as he knelt down by them. "Sure thing, Vegeta. But what about you?"

Vegeta held up the bottle containing an incensed Frieza. "I've got business to take care of. Now hurry. I'm returning to the Lookout to finish this freak off once and for all." He turned to leave, but then he heard his woman call his name.

"Vegeta, wait!" Bulma ran over to him, practically falling into his arms. "Please be careful. I know you're a super saiyan and all, but he's still immortal."

He smirked, pushing her away gently. "Stop worrying, woman."

Without another word, Vegeta jumped off the rail of Korin's Tower and flew back up to the Lookout, Frieza's bottle clutched tightly in his hand. Reaching the platform, he was stunned when there was nothing left but Garlic and Goku fighting. The rest of the debris, rubble, and tile floor had been stripped, sucked into the Dead Zone. Already pieces of the Lookout were breaking off, meeting the same fate as the courtyard and central palace. Like a black hole the vortex seemed to grow stronger as it absorbed more mass, threatening to take in the whole world if it wasn't stopped.

He looked up again at the sky, not sure if it was his imagination when he saw that the Makyo Star seemed to be glowing brighter. Shaking his head, he dropped the bottle to the floor and stomped on it, breaking the glass. A silver cloud of mist rose from the shattered bottle, and when it cleared he saw Frieza standing there. Shifting into his fighting stance, Vegeta prepared for the final battle, shoving aside his concern about the void and being stuck there for eternity if he were foolish enough to get swallowed up by it.

"You shouldn't have freed me, Vegeta," Frieza yelled over the gusting wind and racket of the Lookout disintegrating from the force of the Dead Zone. "You are going to suffer, and when I'm through with you I'll finally kill you as I should have done years ago!"

At first a thrill of fear tried to rise in Vegeta's gut, but then he started chuckling, a feral grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "You made one fatal mistake, Frieza. Instead of making me afraid of pain and death, you made me immune to it."

With a roar, Vegeta charged forward and punched Frieza. Following him as he flew back from the force, Vegeta elbowed him in the chest and sank his foot into his abdomen, aiming a beam of ki at his head. As he poured his energy into his attack, he found it harder to stay grounded. The vortex was growing, becoming more of a danger to himself and everyone below.

_"Kakarrot, finish him off!"_

_ "I'm trying, but he won't die!"_

_ "Then throw him into his own damn void!"_

_ "Hey, I never thought of that."_

_ "Obviously." _Vegeta refocused on the lizard beneath him. "I'm curious about your immortality. Can you still survive if you lose your head? Or does it just hurt really fucking bad?"

Frieza struggled to free himself as the glowing orb of energy in Vegeta's hand grew, doubling in size and power. "No, Vegeta! You can't do this to me!"

"You're wrong about that." Vegeta drew his hand back like he was preparing to punch Frieza, then threw his hand forward, releasing the energy aimed at the tyrant's face. There was a large explosion with a crushing shockwave following as the ki hit its target. Vegeta jumped back from the point of impact, holding his arm up to protect his eyes. Once the light faded, he lowered his arm and looked at Frieza's maimed body as the smoke cleared. "Huh, guess you're not so immortal after all."

Spitting contemptuously at the body, Vegeta turned around and clenched his hands into fists as he had to put more energy into resisting the suction of the Dead Zone. Nearby, he could hear the sounds of battle as Garlic Jr. and Goku continued fighting. He could hear the cries of pain, but mostly he heard the shockwaves as blow after blow landed on the immortal demon. Goku had to be winning, but Garlic simply wouldn't – couldn't – die. He was extremely powerful, or at least he had infinite endurance and regenerating capabilities, but was that because of his immortality or his increased strength due to the power of the Makyo Star?

Vegeta tilted his head back, fixing his gaze on the glowing red light in the sky. It definitely appeared larger than before. Extending his arm with his palm facing the star, he started gathering energy until his hand glowed with a blue light, intent on destroying the source of the demon's power and thus, hopefully, closing the Dead Zone before it could take him and his pack. Once his attack was fully charged, he released the beam of ki. As soon as it disappeared into a tiny speck of light in space, he was knocked to the floor as someone kicked him in the back of the head. Somewhat dazed, he turned onto his side and gasped when he saw Frieza standing over him, fists clenched and ready to attack again.

'This is impossible!' his rational mind screamed. 'He was dead. Really fucking dead! I blew his head off!'

"Don't look so surprised to see me, monkey," Frieza spat. "When will you learn you can't kill an immortal?"

Dismissing his shock, Vegeta got back up to his feet and took his fighting stance. "Oh, I'm pretty sure you were dead. You can die, you apparently just don't stay dead. Guess I'll have to keep killing you then."

"You really think you can?" Frieza scoffed and phased over to Vegeta, kicking him in the gut and crashing his fists down on the back of his head as he doubled over. "You're getting tired, little prince. And I feel as good as new."

By now Vegeta was really starting to feel the strain of keeping himself from getting pulled into the Dead Zone. Sparing a glance at Goku, he could see he was likewise starting to show the signs of fatigue, probably worse considering the majority of his fight with Garlic Jr. was in the air, making it doubly hard to resist the suction. In the brief moment his attention was diverted, Frieza attacked again, this time trying to kick Vegeta's head. But Vegeta saw it coming from the corner of his eye and managed to block the blow with his forearm.

He grunted from the pain shooting through his arm from the impact and stepped back a few feet. Determined to go on the offense, he pushed his ki higher, igniting his aura around him and firing a small barrage of ki blasts at the tyrant. He was about to throw a much stronger ball of ki at Frieza when Goku crashed into him from behind.

"What the hell!" Vegeta shoved the larger saiyan away and quickly got back to his feet. "Make yourself useful and get this thing closed!"

Goku sat up, rubbing his head. "Sorry, Vegeta. I tried to throw him in, but he didn't seem to be affected by it. He came right back out."

"Damnit!" With a furious growl, Vegeta jumped into the air and kicked Frieza in the side of the head. With his opponent downed for a few seconds, he was able to look up at the sky again. The Makyo Star was still there. His ki beam hadn't reached it yet. "What's taking so damn long?"

"What do you mean?" Goku asked, charging up a kamehameha wave to hit Garlic with.

"Never mind."

"Okay then." In a flash Goku moved over to the other side of the Lookout and, only a few feet from Garlic Jr., threw his hands forward and released his attack, hoping to push the demon into the air and far enough into the vortex that he couldn't come back. But Garlic Jr. was strong and resilient, and he freed himself from the beam of ki before dropping back down the Lookout and kicking Goku hard.

Vegeta turned when he heard Frieza moving behind him, but he was too late to avoid Frieza's grasp. The lizard latched onto his arm, again digging his claw-like nails into his flesh to keep him from pulling free, and started spinning him around. After building enough momentum, he threw Vegeta straight up into the sky, meaning for him to get sucked into the vortex. As soon as he was in the air, Vegeta started trying to fly back down to the Lookout, but he was dangerously close to the Dead Zone and he felt like it was absorbing his energy straight from his body. Sweat beaded on his brow as he tried to escape the vortex, but he realized he was losing ground slowly as the surface of the Lookout became increasingly distant. There was no way to escape the pull of the vortex. He was going to get sucked in and spend eternity there. Could he even die in the Dead Zone? He shook his head, refusing to entertain such thoughts. It wasn't hopeless. He would get out of his current predicament somehow.

He flared his ki higher until he was sure he felt his insides burning up. Still he pushed it, thrusting it behind him, grasping at thin air for a hold on something – anything – to use to pull himself free from the black hole behind him. And still he lost ground. It was strenuous for him to reach his arm forward, making one final attempt to hold on, to escape the clutches of a dark dimension.

"Vegeta!"

Was he hearing things? Or was someone really close enough for him to hear? He hadn't realized he closed his eyes until he opened them and saw Kakarrot flying up to meet him. Frantically he shook his head, urging the other saiyan to go back, to defeat the monsters below. "No, you fool! You'll get pulled in too!"

Goku came up alongside Vegeta and spun around so he was facing the Lookout too. "What did you call us? Super saiyans? Do you really think two _super saiyans_ are weak enough to be sucked into the Dead Zone?"

"I don't need your useless moral support right now."

"Then how about a little help?"

"I don't need your help!" Vegeta shouted. For the first time since Frieza threw him, he felt himself move forward, farther from the vortex and the void that waited beyond.

Goku smiled knowingly and reached over, grabbing Vegeta's arm. "Sure you don't. Now come on, we can get out of this."

Giving the younger saiyan a withering glare, Vegeta held onto Goku's arm and together they raised their ki and pushed it behind them. It felt like they were being ripped in half as the vortex continued pulling and they continued pushing away with stubborn determination. Though he wouldn't admit it, having help came as a relief to Vegeta. He knew he would still be falling back if Goku hadn't come, and now that they had the power of two super saiyans simultaneously pushing them forward, they were making progress. The farther they got from the vortex, the faster they moved until finally they were able to separate, each going after his own opponent without fear of being sucked in again.

Vegeta tackled Frieza to the floor of the Lookout and started grappling with him, trying to stay on top, pin him down, beat him senseless, and make him suffer. Neither he nor Frieza were able to gain the upper hand for long before the other would overthrow him and roll them over, ending up on top. Finally, Frieza gained the advantage with his hands wrapped around Vegeta's throat, choking him. Vegeta looked past Frieza's head and saw a brilliantly bright light in the sky where there was once a red glowing star. It finally exploded. That meant Garlic Jr. would be losing his power soon, and he wouldn't be able to keep the Dead Zone open – he hoped.

As if on cue, Garlic Jr. started lamenting his loss of power, screaming as if in deepest agony as his energy drained. With one final burst of rage, he punched Goku and staggered a few steps forward, losing control of the Dead Zone. No longer immune to its suction, he was now struggling to stay on the Lookout. Goku recovered from the relatively weak punch quickly and flipped over Garlic's head, landing behind him. Quickly gathering energy in his hands, he aimed at the demon's back and fired a strong beam of ki, blasting him into the sky. At first Garlic Jr. seemed able to resist the vortex as he managed to stop himself and remain in place in the air.

This was the brief window of opportunity Vegeta had been waiting for. He gripped Frieza's wrists and yanked his hands away from his throat, gasping for breath. Bringing his knees up to his shoulders, he planted his feet on Frieza's chest and kicked him high into the sky, sending a beam of ki after him to make sure he kept going straight toward the center of the vortex.

"Now Frieza, you can spend every moment of eternity remembering you were beaten by a monkey!" he yelled as the tyrant continued falling into the Dead Zone. Frieza flew past Garlic Jr., and, seeing he was stable, grabbed for him, but he wasn't able to reach him. Desperation made him lash out with one last attempt to save himself, coiling his tail around Garlic's neck to hold onto him as an anchor. But all he succeeded in doing was adding weight to Garlic, who was now unable to fight against the pull of the Dead Zone. As soon as they fell into the swirling vortex, it closed, sealed shut for the rest of eternity.

When the wind died down and the pieces of debris that were in the air fell back to the ground, Vegeta dropped to his hands and knees, breathing heavily. Near him, Goku also collapsed. Exhausted, their hair returned to coal black and their teal eyes darkened to deep obsidian.

"Did we win, Vegeta?"

Vegeta looked over at the other saiyan and rolled his eyes. "How many times have I told you not to ask foolish questions?"

Goku laughed. It was really all he could do after fighting the most intense battle of his life. The Earth was no longer in great peril and he could rest. The sacred water had been spread across the Earth, Garlic Jr. and Frieza were both locked away in the Dead Zone, and the invading army—

"What about Frieza's army?"

"Someone else can take care of them."

"Oh." Goku turned onto his back to gaze up at the star-studded sky, sighing with relief as the sense of victory finally settled in. But with that relief came another emotion that was overtaken by his anger as he transformed: grief. His wife was dead, killed by one of Garlic's barbarian followers. Tears stung his eyes as he remembered her fate, wishing he could go back in time and prevent it from happening. Wishing. Wishing! "Vegeta, we need to find the dragon balls as soon as they're recharged."

"Obviously."

Though still feeling almost unbearable heartache, Goku smiled a little. His wife was dead, but she would be brought back along with Mrs. Brief and Raditz. He closed his eyes, ready to fall into a deep slumber, when he was broken out of his thoughts by the saiyan prince.

"I resent being saved as if I were a helpless child."

"Is that a thank-you?"

"No."

"Well, you're welcome."

"Hn."

"I was just repaying a favor."

"What favor?"

"Getting Chi-Chi."

Vegeta turned his head to glare at the tailless saiyan, marveling at how stupidly naïve he was. Did he really believe he retrieved the harpy's body for _his_ sake? He only did it because Bulma would have wanted him to. His vision started to blur as his exhaustion turned to sleepiness. 'Okay,' he admitted to himself, 'Maybe I did it for him, partially. He is one of the last of my race.' And maybe it was because he remembered the saiyan toddler running back and forth in the hut in the woods and thinking he wanted him to be content, never knowing the pain of oppression and loss.

_A/N: I'm almost finished writing chapter 71. I have a feeling it'll be a popular chapter. Thanks for all the reviews on the past couple chapters. Not much else to say except that the story's getting close to concluding..._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	70. Freedom

Freedom

It was a strange sensation to wake up knowing he would never have to serve a monster again. Stranger still was the feeling of freedom that came with it. It wasn't a passing wisp of a feeling gained from flying through a thunderstorm or imagining a life that could have been. For the first time in his life he was truly free, no longer the servant of an intergalactic space tyrant, no longer the heir to a throne, no longer burdened with expectations, obligations, and regulations. This foreign feeling was what he longed for his entire life, but it was surreal, as if he was living in a dream he would wake from at any moment. It filled him with a sense of unease and suspicion, and he hadn't even opened his eyes yet.

Cracking his eyes open, Vegeta surveyed his unfamiliar surroundings. He was in a bed not unlike the one he slept in at Capsule Corporation except it was softer and his blankets did not carry his scent. Reaching up, he rubbed his eyes and raked his fingers through his hair, wincing when the simple movement sent a burst of pain shooting through his sore muscles. He sighed, but his sigh turned into a yawn as he sat up and folded his hands in his lap. The room was lit by the early morning rays of the sun streaming in the open door. There were no windows. The room was small, but not confining; he tried to think of a word to describe it, finally settling on cozy. Still, he had no idea where he was, and that put him on edge. He pushed off the covers, noting that the blanket was an old quilt with slightly frayed edges. Old, worn, but warm and comfortable.

He slid over to the edge of the bed and put his feet on the floor. Cool, smooth tile. The walls were plain white, lacking homey decorations. The only aesthetically pleasing object in the room was a single red flower in a glass vase sitting on the bedside table. Simple. Everything was simple. Nothing at all like Capsule Corporation. Standing, he stretched his arms over his head, a low growl sounding in his chest. Along with his growl, his stomach rumbled hungrily. Vegeta looked down at himself and saw that he wasn't wearing his armor anymore. In fact, he had been stripped down to his boxers. He wrapped his tail around his waist as he searched around the small room for his clothes, finding them clean and folded on a plain wood chair in the corner. Not liking the feeling of vulnerability, he snatched his bodysuit and armor off the chair and dressed himself quickly.

'Where the hell am I?' Growing more agitated by his ignorance, he stepped through the doorway, squinting as the sunlight washed over him fully. He held his arm up, blocking out the light as he looked around. He was standing in some sort of external corridor supported by ornate columns on the outside edge. From his standpoint, he could see the white stone wall of another building straight ahead, and off to the side was a sort of courtyard with white tile. There were evenly spaced beds of flowers and trees dotted around the open space, not unlike the one at Kami's Lookout.

He took a step back, pressing himself against the door jamb. With wide eyes he looked around again, this time sure of what he was seeing. He was on the Lookout, but it had somehow been restored. Just how long had he been unconscious? And where was everyone else? Where was Kakarrot? More importantly, where was Nappa with his woman and his surrogate father? Closing his eyes, he reined in his reeling thoughts and calmed himself, using his mind to sense the nearby ki of the other warriors. They were all close: Kakarrot, his brat, Nappa, the Namekian, Baldy, the guy with three eyes, the scar-faced weakling, and the doll thing. He stepped out again and this time followed the ki of the others until he found himself in a room he had been in before, a sort of dining hall with a long table set up in the middle covered with foods of all sorts. The others were sitting around the table eating already, but the majority of the food was being consumed by the full-blooded saiyans.

Vegeta stopped in the doorway, his long shadow stretching across the floor. Not sure if this was a celebration feast and not really caring, he wasn't sure he wanted to join. He would be content to eat alone in private, far from the company of all these warriors, most of whom he barely got along with, some he outright hated. Some of them turned when they felt his ki, but other than Goku and Nappa, they returned to their conversations as if he wasn't there. Vegeta gave a small sigh of relief when their attention passed, rolling his eyes when Goku waved dumbly to beckon him over to the table.

It was strange knowing that, if he wanted, he could live amongst people like this for the rest of his life without the worry of being hunted down by his former master. Even now he wasn't sure his battle against Frieza hadn't been a dream. The only solid evidence he had that it occurred was the deep and persistent soreness in his muscles. Still, as he stiffly walked over to the table, he half-expected Frieza to jump out at him to punish him for his military insurrection. His gaze shifted around the warriors seated at the table, finally landing on Nappa as he took the empty chair next to his old bodyguard.

Once seated, he rested his hands in his lap and stared down at the porcelain plate on the table in front of him. He could fill it with all the delicacies covering the table and gorge himself, but despite his hunger, he had little appetite. More than a meal he wanted to know it was real, that he had fought Frieza and come out victorious. But he didn't want to look foolish, especially not in front of Kakarrot's friends. If he asked about the fight, he would be ridiculed no matter the answer; if it happened as he thought it did, they would think him so mentally handicapped he forgot his own victory, but if it didn't happen, they would think he lived in foolish daydreams. Why he suddenly cared about their acceptance and respect he didn't know, but it was a nagging feeling that came along with his freedom. Now that he had no greater goal and purpose to live for, the people surrounding him suddenly mattered to some degree. They weren't pawns for him to use in his quest for freedom, they were sentient beings with lives of their own.

Strange how freedom brought its own set of guidelines to live by. Shouldn't it mean he could now do as he pleased, whether that meant slaughtering millions for entertainment or settling down with his woman and raising a pack of saiyan-human hybrids? As much time as he spent striving for freedom, which he had now attained, he almost never thought about what he would do with it. What now, when he was free from the lizard's grasp? Would he take over the universe in his place, taking his rightful place as emperor of the universe? Would he stay on Earth with his pack, mating with his woman and raising his own offspring? Before, there was only one road for him to take, and that was the road that would lead to Frieza's demise. But he came to the end of that road and now it was forking in an infinite number of directions, all of which were equally feasible for the saiyan prince. Having choices – real choices – was unsettling. He was a master tactician, an expert strategist, but right now he had no plan for his future, no goal to work toward. This freedom left him feeling empty, lost.

Maybe it wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Maybe life was better with a master issuing commands, barking orders, running his life for him. He sighed despondently as he again glanced around the table. Celebration. Everyone else was thrilled that the fight was over, done. Frieza was gone forever, his men were killed, the Earth was safe again. That was all they cared about. They were content to fight the fight and go on with life once the battle was won. But unlike these earthlings, Vegeta didn't know how to return to life. Not for the first time he felt he had never truly lived before. Struggling for survival and obeying a monstrous tyrant as a slave was hardly what he could consider living. Life. He was thrown into it with no idea what he was supposed to do. He felt overwhelmed, perhaps even timid. Freedom was supposed to be sweet, welcoming, but all it did was make him want to curl into a shell and hide from it.

He watched passively as the genie came over and poured him a cup of tea. The steam rose and curled in the air, wafting on a slight breeze that blew in the open door. How many times in his life had he witnessed something so mundane and unremarkable and wished he, too, could float away on a breeze, unbound by the chains of his duty as the prince of a dead race and a soldier among millions in a tyrant's army? Even as a young boy he wished to break free from his bondage and live without oppression, but now he was beginning to think he had been foolish to want such a thing as freedom all his life. What did he know about freedom? Only that it was unattainable, always just out of reach. Now he had it and he hadn't the faintest clue what to do with it.

Beside him, Nappa quietly cleared his throat, subtly inquiring why he wasn't eating anything. Vegeta's shoulders dropped almost imperceptibly as he became further disheartened. He couldn't explain what he felt to Nappa. He couldn't even be sure Frieza was gone. Memories flashed through his mind of the battle, of the pain and anger, of the power surging through his body in crashing waves. Slowly shaking his head, Vegeta reached out with his mind to his bodyguard, the man he trusted most.

_"Nappa, what happened?"_

The large saiyan paused briefly in his eating, sparing a short glance at the prince before taking another bite of food. _"What do you mean? Don't you remember? You defeated Frieza, Vegeta, after you ascended to the legendary." _Accompanying his words came a flood of mental images. Vegeta saw himself kneeling on the Lookout, his hair a brilliant gold and eyes a cold, piercing teal. Not far from him, sprawled on the ground, was the dead body of Mrs. Brief. In front of him stood Frieza, finger still pointed at her body after firing a death beam.

Vegeta swallowed, his dry tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. So it was real, every one of his memories was real. A fresh wave of guilt and sorrow swept through him as he looked at Mrs. Brief's body through Nappa's eyes. He saw himself kneeling there, accepting his death like a coward, when Mrs. Brief ran over and shoved him out of the way a split second before Frieza's fired his death beam. It shot through her chest, instantly killing her in his place. He squeezed his eyes shut, hands balling into fists in his lap as the memory replayed over and over in his mind. How could he have ever allowed her to sacrifice herself for him? Why hadn't he sensed her coming and stopped her?

_"How long was I out?"_

_ "Two days. Kakarrot woke up a couple hours before you. The transformation must have taken a lot out of the both of you."_

Vegeta nodded once, not in the mood to communicate further with anyone. Ignoring his cup of tea and the copious amount of food still on the table, Vegeta pushed his chair back from the table and stood. He lifted his chin as he walked out of the room and back out into the sunlight, stopping only when he reached the edge of the Lookout. There he sat down with his legs hanging over the edge to watch the sun rise fully over the clouds below. It was a glorious sight, but he took little pleasure in it. For over an hour he sat there, wondering what his reason for living was now that Frieza was gone. He had always assumed he would want to take over the Cold Empire, but he found he had little desire to become an emperor. No, he was content to remain the Prince of all Saiyans, the only title he ever held, the only one that had any meaning for him.

Freedom left him wanting comfort and security, two things he always lived without and never considered much. They were luxuries he could not afford. They meant little to him. Just words. Any comfort he ever had, any sense of security, was all before he was taken from his home planet by Frieza. He had memories of the feelings, but only vaguely. The memories were so stale he couldn't remember how it felt to be safe, comfortable. But still, now that he was a free man, he desperately wanted to know what they felt like again. While asking himself where he might find such feelings, he suddenly realized it didn't matter _where_ he was, but rather _who_ he was with.

Clearing his mind, he sensed the one ki that mattered most to him. He found it not far away, straight below. It was low, steady, at peace. As it should be. Finding the ki signature awakened a yearning deep in his heart, a yearning he could not quite explain or identify. What he was yearning for he didn't know; all he knew was that he had to satisfy it lest it drive him mad. Following his instincts, he pushed himself off the Lookout, turning head over heels as he fell ungracefully without the aid of ki to steady him or slow his descent. He felt so weak, so hungry, thirsty, but not in the physical sense. He wanted something so deeply it was weakening him.

Reaching out, he gripped the rail of the stairs leading from the lower portion of Korin's Tower to the higher level. He grunted as his aching muscles strained with his weight pulling him down, his momentum jerking his shoulders painfully as he suddenly stopped himself from falling. Swinging himself over the rail, he continued his search for his blue-haired woman, the answer to his hunger, his need. He jumped down the flight of stairs and hurtled into the room below, barely able to stop himself from knocking Bulma over when he ran to her.

"Vegeta?"

She saw little more than a blur of motion before she was held in his arms so tightly she could hardly breathe. He did not speak, did not kiss her, but silently he held her for many long minutes. Her touch brought him peace like never before. There was no longer the fear lingering in the back of his mind that he might lose her or the guilt of putting her in danger by leading Frieza to her doorstep. Now he was free – free to bask in the solace she could give him, free to love her without reserve. She was the reason he sought freedom all his life, the reason freedom was so coveted by the enslaved. Freedom was intimidating, uncertain, and volatile, but when he was with his woman, his mate, he knew he could live as a free man without apprehension. With her there were no worries, no concerns, no anxiety. She was his grounding and the light that would guide him down the right path.

Feeling her small, frail frame in his arms gave him a renewed sense of purpose, a new goal in life: to protect and support her. He didn't consider it fickle human sentimentality, but rather saw it as it truly was. For lack of a better word, he loved her. What more did he need in his life than this woman? Freedom brought uncertainty and left him wondering what to do with himself, but she answered his questions simply enough. With his freedom he would mate with her, live by her side, protect and defend her, respect and cherish her. When she needed, he would provide; when she wanted, he would give. Never before in his life had he been so ready and willing to invest in someone else, never expecting anything in return. Perhaps it was because he knew that Bulma, even though he didn't expect rewards, would give them in return. From her he could expect nothing but unconditional love and devotion. That was all a free man needed, he decided. Not galactic domination, not the fear of millions or billions, not even power.

"I was beginning to worry about you," she murmured into his shoulder. "Everyone else went home, but I stayed here to be close to you when you woke."

He inhaled her scent as he nuzzled into her neck, wanting desperately to be closer to her. If only she was ready. "Why not stay at the Lookout?"

She smiled wryly, though he couldn't see it. "Atmosphere's too thin up there. It was okay for a while, but then I needed more air."

"Hn." Humans were so pathetic, only able to survive in the most specific conditions. Vulnerable to extreme temperature, lack of oxygen, famine and drought, it was a wonder their weak race managed to live as long as it did. Vegeta chased those thoughts away, no longer interested in condemning the race he chose to live with. He would never be converted to living as a human as Kakarrot was; he could never fully adopt their morals and ethics, never understand their cultural norms and idiosyncrasies. They would continue to irritate and confuse him, but he was willing to set aside his condescension to live with his chosen mate in peace. Never would he give up his fighting spirit and drive to excel, and he would never kick the habit of training obsessively or fully eradicate his innate bloodlust. He was a saiyan, the saiyan prince, and he would never forget or ignore his heritage. He was proud of his lineage, so even if it meant problems down the road as he adapted to life on Earth he would never reject what he was.

Bulma rubbed his back, wondering what he was thinking about. She was used to him not talking, but his current silence seemed to stem less from a lack of desire to talk than a burden of thoughts weighing him down. She pulled back from him as much as he would allow and looked him in the eye, imploring him to say what was on his mind.

Though he could see the request in her eyes, he still did not speak. She hardly noticed she was in the air until Vegeta dropped them through one of the circular holes in the floor. She held onto him tightly as they fell, the wind whipping her hair around her face. Not once did she scream, trusting Vegeta fully to prevent her from being hurt. Her heart raced as they descended, adrenaline pumping through her veins. Bulma kissed along his jaw until she reached his ear. There she whispered a simple question.

"Can you do it again?"

He frowned slightly, not sure if he could. Seeing they were nearing the ground, he started pushing his ki under him, slowing their fall. Then he closed his eyes, searching within himself for the trigger that would let loose a storm of power. It wasn't rage or frustration this time; now that the power was unlocked, he could access it without a torrent of emotions. He imagined himself flipping a switch as his power started to raise exponentially. His aura flared around him, first white, then darkening to blue. His eyes paled to teal as ki surged through him, then his hair flashed gold and his aura became blindingly bright, rivaling the rays of the sun.

Bulma shut her eyes, blocking out the brilliant light until it dimmed enough for her to see. She opened her eyes again, stunned at first when she looked into the strange eyes of a super saiyan. They seemed colder than when they were black; there was no softness in them, as if she could see no life within them. Swallowing back her fear, her gaze moved to the tip of his widow's peak and traced the high arch, eventually following the golden spikes of his flame-like hair. By then they were flying west, but she hardly noticed the change in direction. Biting her lip, she tentatively reached up and stroked his hair, burying her fingers in the feathery mane. The texture was the same as before, but she could feel tiny shocks as her fingers weaved through the golden strands.

Grinning, she moved her hand to the side of his head and scratched gently behind his ear, something she hadn't dared repeat since they were children. His cold gaze met hers, betraying no thoughts or emotion as she scratched. But then she felt a warm, furry snake coiling around her thigh and a low, soft rumble in his chest as he purred. She was blind to the destruction around them as they grew closer to West City, focused solely on her mate. She could feel sweat building on her chest from being pressed against his body. He always exuded warmth, but as a super saiyan his energy rolled off him in hot waves. Sighing contentedly, she closed her eyes and nuzzled into his chest, taking comfort in his strong arms.

…

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at the reconstruction efforts in West City from his high vantage point. He stood in Bulma's office suite waiting for her to finish the business she needed to attend to after the invasion. His patience was running thin as she hung up the phone for what must have been the hundredth time in the past hour, only to pick up the receiver a few seconds later to make another call. Business was booming at Capsule Corporation as cities across the planet were in desperate need of their products to set up makeshift hospitals, obtain medical supplies, provides homes to the homeless, and order building materials to construct new buildings in place of the old. What may have been a close call for Earth turned out to be great for business at Capsule Corporation. Phones throughout the headquarters building were ringing off the hook and the entire staff was barely able to keep up with their work. Bulma would have been thrilled, but she was mostly irritated that she was forced to come into work at headquarters every day for hours on end with few – and short – breaks.

She hung up the phone once again, smiling apologetically to Vegeta when he turned to her expectantly, more than ready to leave. Her eyes dropped down to his tail, which was flicking, the only indicator that his temper was rising. With a sigh and a helpless shrug, she turned to her computer and started typing a message for the Capsule Corporation medical personnel. She really was sorry that Vegeta had to wait so long; he came over an hour ago to take her home to the compound. Since the near-destruction of the city, most of the roads were closed and all aerial vehicles were grounded. The only way to get to and from headquarters was on foot – or, in Bulma's case, flight without a vehicle. She could have walked, though she wouldn't have enjoyed it much, but Vegeta was unwilling to have her out alone. Not when there was still madness afoot.

The saiyan prince had rarely been to a planet after a recent purge, and when he went to one, it was for clean-up of a different sort. Usually, he and the other saiyans were sent to finish the job of purging when another squadron was either killed or were simply incompetent and failed to kill every living person on the planet. Never had he seen a planet post-purge being reconstructed. He was astounded by the resilience of the human race. He still pegged them as a weakling species, but he had to admit that they could bounce back from a crisis and get back to life as usual in a fairly short time. It had only been a week since he defeated Frieza and already the cities of the world were patching up nicely and the world government and economy were getting back on track.

_"It's almost as if they've done this all before," he remarked the first time he flew over the city. Emergency vehicles were darting through the city, providing relief to the survivors._

_ Bulma looked up at him and shrugged one shoulder. "They have, though I don't think they've ever had to recover from devastation of this magnitude. But they'll get through it. Probably in a few years they'll forget any of this ever happened. That's the human way."_

He snorted at the memory, unable to comprehend how the people could be so foolish. They should remember this forever, take action to prevent anything like it from ever happening again. But the humans were complacent and preferred reacting to offenses rather than being proactive to keep from having to deal with such crises. Then again, what was the likelihood of a purge ever happening to the little backwater planet again? Frieza was gone forever, locked in a void for eternity. The only others who – in this lifetime, anyway – would ever be capable of trying such an attack would be Frieza's brother and father, the other rulers of the Cold Empire.

Vegeta had only seen King Cold once, and Cooler not many times more than that. Frieza hated his brother and avoided him at all costs, and Frieza never took his lower ranking soldiers (those below Dodoria's rank) with him when he visited his home planet, which his father, King Cold, almost never left. King Cold was the supreme ruler of the Cold Empire, but it was his sons who conquered new planets, each given a portion of the empire to rule over under him. Mostly they were left to do as they pleased, but they still had to work within regulations he established.

Not for the first time since waking after his battle with Frieza, Vegeta felt a small wave of fear of losing his newly gained freedom when he thought of an invasion by King Cold or Cooler. Everyone in Frieza's empire knew he was the favored son, so there were good odds that his father would want to exact revenge for his death – as close to death as he could get, that is. And even if he didn't, Cooler would. Not because he cared for his brother, but because their family lived by a twisted honor code that would practically require Cooler to avenge Frieza. He was almost certain at least one of them would come, but he had no idea when. Probably they already received word that Frieza was unresponsive, his entire invading army destroyed.

He looked out the window again, watching a crane several blocks away lifting support beams to rebuild one of the many skyscrapers that were decimated in the attack. It really was a miracle Capsule Corporation hadn't been destroyed. It was an prime target, easily the largest building in the city. But for some reason it was left intact aside from some broken windows and minor vandalism, more likely the work of humans than aliens. Sighing, he turned away from the window and walked around the desk to sit in one of the leather chairs, still thinking about his threatened freedom and the possible danger the Earth would find itself in soon enough.

Probably the best way to prevent another invasion from happening would be to leave Earth and make the first move, attacking Cooler's empire, and then King Cold himself. There were no other heirs to take over the empire. The scattered remains of their armies might try to form some sort of replacement intergalactic government, probably just as tyrannical. Would that become a threat to Earth as well? Vegeta didn't want to leave Earth anyway. Earth was where his pack was; wasn't that the very reason he stayed for the past two years, even knowing he was putting them in danger by luring Frieza to their defenseless planet? How could he leave them now, when the threat was finally gone?

When he heard Bulma hang up the phone, hopefully for the last time, he asked her, "Would it be possible for you to hack into the mainframe of Frieza's ship and get all the information about his army and bases?"

Bulma looked over at him and frowned slightly as she shut down her computer and packed her briefcase full of files she would have to read that night. "I suppose so. Why do you ask?"

For a fleeting moment he considered not telling her, instead gathering the information and slipping away in the spaceship Dr. Brief created to destroy the remaining Cold Empire. No sooner did he think about deceiving her than he dismissed the thought. "Frieza has a brother and a father, both of whom are likely to come here to avenge him when they learn of his defeat. I think it would be wise to take the offense and destroy their empire before they get the chance to come here."

Bulma walked over to the chair he was sitting in and rested her hand on his shoulder. "That freak had a brother?" She sighed, slowly shaking her head. "I don't want you to go back into space, Vegeta. Who knows how long it would take you to destroy an entire empire?"

"It could take years, perhaps even decades. Even I don't know how many galaxies the Cold Empire spans." His eyebrow twitched as he stood up. "But if Nappa and Raditz help me, it could be done more quickly. If we each had our own ship, we could split up and cover more territory."

"Why go, Vegeta?" she asked as she linked arms with him, ignoring his low growl of protest. "Even if they come, both you and Goku are super saiyans now. And what if Raditz ascended too? Or even Gohan? Is it possible for a half-saiyan to become a super saiyan?"

Disregarding her wandering thoughts, Vegeta directed the conversation back to the real issue. "We could wait here like sitting ducks or we could act," he replied tersely. "Do you think I want to go, woman? This is our best option. We will go and take down the entire empire so we can live in – in –"

"Peace?" Bulma smiled sadly as she pushed the down button of the elevator. She knew he had never known peace before. She doubted he really knew what it meant. But from her talks with him over the past week she realized that he was both confused and enraptured by the strange feeling of freedom, of finally being his own person. No doubt he considered the looming threat posed by Frieza's family an affront to that new sense of freedom. It wasn't any wonder he wanted to protect it. His nature was to be aggressive, but also defensive and protective over the things he cared about. Apparently freedom was one of those things now that he had it.

He turned away from her, suddenly finding the kitchenette extremely fascinating as he waited for the elevator door to open. "Yes."

"You're right, Vegeta," she conceded reluctantly. "You should destroy that empire. Nappa and Raditz can help. I think my dad actually has a spare spaceship, and now that there's likely pods all over the planet – not to mention Frieza's ship – he should be able to make another one. If you take me to Central City I'll see what I can get from the ship. I don't think the government has gotten around to confiscating it yet. It's probably not high on their to-do list."

Vegeta studied Bulma's face as they stepped onto the elevator, noting the tension around her lips as she tried not to frown. Her eyes held a sadness she couldn't hide, making him feel as though someone were stabbing him in the gut. He desperately wanted to stay on Earth with her, but he had to leave to protect her. Wasn't it always the same story? It was as if he was destined to either put Earth in danger or leave it forever, and with it leave his pack, his mate. No doubt she was thinking about what he told her: the fact that it may take decades to overthrow the empire. When would he return, if ever? Decades later? Would she even be alive?

It was almost a physical pain in his heart when he thought she might be dead the next time he set foot on Earth. Humans were so short-lived. Even if she were alive, she might be old and feeble, and maybe her mind would be gone and she wouldn't remember him at all. Without a word he pulled her into an embrace that he never wanted to end. He wanted to feel her small body pressed against his forever, feel her warmth, the peace she brought him. But he had to leave it for her own good. Was there no way to have both? He shook his head. No, it would be far too dangerous to take her into space with him. It seemed they were destined to be apart. And they hadn't even mated yet. When would she be ready? Not before his departure. He needed to leave right away. He needed to make sure the Colds weren't already heading for Earth. He had to keep her safe, even if it meant sacrificing their happiness.

_A/N: Well, I just finished writing chapter 72, which means only one more to go! It's bittersweet. I've been working on this story so long it's sad to see it end, but at the same time I'm glad it's wrapping up and I can move on to other stories. I just want to remind you all to vote in my poll if you haven't already - I want to know what you want me to write next._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	71. Rallying Troops

Rallying Troops

It took hours of tireless arguments to finally convince Vegeta not to leave Earth right away. Bulma walked out of the living room, rather satisfied with herself, leaving Vegeta sitting on the couch glowering at the wall opposite him. Her throat was sore from all the yelling, shrieking, and groaning that transpired over the past four and a half hours, but she figured it was worth the pain to persuade her stubborn saiyan mate to remain on Earth until after everyone was wished back to life with the dragon balls. It was only the day after he told her that he was leaving the planet for an indefinite period of time to destroy the Cold Empire, and while she accepted the fact that he was going, she wasn't willing to let him out of her life so quickly.

While Bulma went to the kitchen to get a cold drink to soothe her throat, Vegeta was left stewing in his thoughts. The only reason he was staying longer than he originally planned was to see Mrs. Brief again before departing, mainly because he was afraid he would never have the chance to see her again. Not only did he want to show his gratitude for her sacrifice, but he wanted to see for himself that she was revived, and honestly he wanted to know the loving embrace of a mother one last time before leaving his pack. At least it was only two more months. Not another two-year wait.

Ignoring the ringing in his ears from Bulma's relentless screeching, Vegeta mulled over the wish they were going to make to bring Mrs. Brief and Raditz back to life. And the harpy. Couldn't forget the harpy. He sighed, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. They had gone over so many different phrasings of the wish that he hardly remembered which one they settled on in the end. It had to be perfect in order to have the desired results. He became anxious thinking about it; what if they misspoke? What if the dragon misunderstood or didn't have the power to grant their wish? Nearly ripping his hair out as he entered his pessimistic, circular thoughts, he stood from the couch and headed for the kitchen to confront his woman again.

"What wish will we make when we've gathered the dragon balls?"

Bulma flinched when she heard his voice behind her, then frowned a little when she listened to his question. It was a topic they had gone over many times already, between themselves and with the input of the other warriors. "We've discussed this. We'll ask the dragon to restore the lives of everyone killed on Earth since Frieza and his men arrived. That should include anyone Garlic and his men killed, too."

For some reason he couldn't quite figure, Vegeta was not satisfied with that wish. It was what they settled on days earlier, but it still seemed not all inclusive. Something was missing. If nothing else, it was somewhat vague, and he doubted the dragon would grant a wish like that. Or what if he granted it, but it didn't come with the results they wanted because he interpreted it a way they didn't intend?

"Frieza said the dragon on Namek granted him immortality."

"So?"

"He killed them all."

"Who all?"

"The Namekians." Vegeta walked over to the counter and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest. "Frieza never left a single living soul on any planet he touched that wasn't already his."

Bulma gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. "Why didn't you mention that before? You want to bring them back, don't you?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, but she could see through his façade. Whether he admitted to it or not, she knew he had grown a conscience during his stay on Earth. He wanted to appear indifferent, but really he was feeling guilt for the genocide of the Namekians. If not for him, Frieza probably never would have learned of the dragon balls, never would have traveled there, never would have killed them all, and never would have wished for immortality.

"How about this? We wish for everyone Frieza and his men killed in the past year to be revived. That should cover Namek, right?" She stepped closer to him and reached out to lay her hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Whenever Vegeta got to thinking too much he always ended up brooding and second-guessing any plan that was made. She hated seeing him so fretful; it didn't suit him.

He appeared to consider that option for a moment before shaking his head. "What about Kakarrot's harpy?"

"Oh. Damn." Bulma pulled herself up to sit on the counter and rested her head on his shoulder, mind racing. "I know! We can make that wish with the Earth's dragon balls, then we can go to Namek and use their dragon balls to wish Chi-Chi back! I mean, it's the least they could do to let us use their dragon balls after we wish them back to life."

Vegeta continued to stare across the room as a smirk crept across his face. "You know, woman, that might just work."

She grinned and kissed his cheek. "Of course it will. I'm going to tell the others about the change in plans. Hey, maybe they'll want to go to Namek too. You know, to help bring Chi-Chi back and everything." Sliding off the counter, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and left the kitchen.

Once again Vegeta was left stunned by the woman he claimed as his mate. Why hadn't he thought of using the Namekian dragon balls? He was always astounded when someone else's mind worked faster than his own, and she had proven on more than one occasion that hers could and often did. He watched her leave, appreciating the alluring sway of her hips with each step she took. The door shut behind her and he finally noticed his heart racing. Damn that woman did strange things to his body. Groaning, he went to the sink and splashed cold water on his face.

'I can't leave her behind without mating with her, even if it's just one time.' He dried his face and braced his arms on the counter, looking out the window above the sink. It was bright and sunny, a perfect summer day. His eyebrow rose when he saw Nappa standing on the front lawn. If it weren't for his tail twitching behind him, he would have looked like a normal earthling, wearing a plain pair of training shorts and a t-shirt. Never mind the fact that he was much larger than the average human. Nappa was a hard person to read, but Vegeta was adept at interpreting his body language after living with him for nearly three decades. From what he could tell, Nappa was rather troubled, but he couldn't imagine why.

Shrugging one shoulder, Vegeta turned and left the kitchen to go outside and talk to his bodyguard. He came up behind the bald saiyan, tilting his head back to look up at the sky. "What are you doing out here, Nappa?"

"Thinking."

"Thinking? You?" Vegeta snorted. "What thoughts could possibly exist in that empty skull of yours?"

Nappa chuckled a little, not at all offended by Vegeta's casual insult. "You'd be surprised. I was thinking about your father and how proud he would be if he were still alive. And I'm thinking about how disappointed I am."

Vegeta's brows furrowed as he turned to scowl at the old saiyan. "Disappointed? In me?"

Sighing, Nappa nodded. "You have something really great here, Vegeta, but you're choosing to leave it. You have a pack now, and a mate. Why are you abandoning them?"

The saiyan prince groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn't want to have this discussion with anyone, much less the man who knew him best. With Nappa he couldn't hide his true feelings, motivations, and desires. There was no point in even trying. "I'm not abandoning them, idiot. I'm protecting them."

"Bullshit."

"Excuse me?"

Nappa shook his head before turning his back on his prince and walking back to the compound. "I can understand the reason you're going. But I can't understand why you're leaving them behind. Bulma, anyway. You want to be with her, don't you? And she wants to be with you. Take her – she's your mate!"

Vegeta growled and ran around Nappa to block his path. "I can't take her! I will not put her in danger. I go to protect her, don't you get it?"

Resting his hands on Vegeta's shoulders, Nappa looked into the prince's eyes with a level of intensity he rarely used since Vegeta was an undisciplined cub. "No, you don't get it! You can't take a mate and then leave her behind. Yes, she'll be in danger, but you'll be there to defend her."

Vegeta brushed his hands aside, but he took a step back to show he was listening. "What if I can't? What if the same thing happens…"

"That happened to Mrs. Brief?" Nappa shrugged. "It might. But you'd be hurting her worse by leaving her alone on Earth. Don't be a fool. I know you're smarter than that, Vegeta. Mates are together for life. You're mates, so you _must_ take her with you."

"But we're not even – we haven't – she isn't –"

Nappa looked at Vegeta, confused, before a sly grin curled his lips. "You haven't mated yet? Is _that _the reason you think you can abandon her? Maybe if you, you know… then you would be more willing to take her along."

Blushing furiously, Vegeta turned away and stomped over to the front door of the compound, his tail wrapping tightly around his leg. "Not a word of this to anyone, you hear me? She isn't ready yet! That's the only reason!" Huffing indignantly, he went inside and slammed the door closed behind him.

"Not ready yet, eh?" Nappa laughed as he followed Vegeta into the compound, but instead of searching for him, he turned down the hall to Bulma's laboratory where she was working on another spaceship for him to use. He knocked on the door before letting himself in, startling Bulma.

The blue-haired scientist whirled around and raised an eyebrow when she saw who her visitor was. "Nappa, what are you doing here? Come to help with the ship?"

He scoffed as he came down the stairs. "Not likely. I never liked mechanics. No, I'm here to talk to you about your training."

"Training?" She subconsciously rubbed her sternum, wincing when she felt the bruise she received during her fight with Vinegar. "I thought you were done training me since the big battle's already done."

Smirking, he shook his head. "I don't want to make you stronger. I want to make you faster."

"Faster? Why?"

"You'll find out in due time. Trust me." He rested his hands on his hips, gesturing with his head to the door. "So what do you say? You up to it?"

Bulma's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she picked up a terry cloth from her workstation and wiped the grease off her hands as she prepared to take a break from working on the spaceship. "I don't know what you're up to, Nappa, but sure, I'll train with you. On one condition: You spend as much time helping me build this ship as I spend training. Deal?"

Nappa quickly hid his grimace as he consented to her terms. "Deal."

…

The next two months passed rapidly; Bulma was kept constantly busy between work at Capsule Corporation, helping her father build the spaceships, training with Nappa, and spending 'quality' time with Vegeta. By the time October rolled around she was running on caffeine more than sleep. The scene in her living room on the morning of October 12 was almost exactly the same as it had been a year earlier. Repressing the feeling of déjà vu, Bulma assigned the gathered warriors and friends the same groups as before, only changing the coordinates of the dragon balls and adding Yamcha to Krillin's group.

In less than a day the z-fighters had all seven dragon balls gathered at Mount Paozu, ready to summon the eternal dragon and wish back all those killed by Frieza in the past year, hopefully including the Namekians. When Bulma stood over the glowing orbs, Vegeta stepped over to her side and looked down at them. "Perhaps you should make sure the dragon can bring back the Namekians before making the wish," he said with a tone low enough no one else could hear.

Bulma bit her bottom lip and nodded. "Sure thing."

Without another word Vegeta backed away a few paces, watching as she raised her arms over the dragon balls and shouted, "Shenron, by your name I summon you to grant my wish!"

No sooner had she spoken the words than the sky darkened to pitch black and erratic bolts of lightning darted through the clouds, followed by deafening claps of thunder. The wind picked up as the resplendent beam of light rocketed out of the dragon balls, shooting high into the sky and curling and coiling in the black clouds, outshining the lightning. Reaching its full length, the light faded and the people gathered below could see the emerald scaled dragon hovering over them.

"Why have you summoned me? Name your wish and I shall grant it," Shenron growled.

Bulma brushed her hair back over her shoulders and took a deep breath before asking the dragon, "Shenron, can you revive all the people Frieza killed in the past year, even the ones who died on other planets?"

The moment of silence that followed dragged on for an eternity to Bulma. She frowned at the dragon, wondering why he always had to be so dramatic. It was never a simple yes or no, he was always putting them on edge, never sure if he could or would grant their wishes. Finally, Shenron decided to answer. "It can be done."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Bulma smiled up at Shenron confidently. "Alright then. I wish for all the people Frieza killed in the past year to be revived except for the really, really bad ones!"

Another pause. Bulma planted her hands on her hips and tapped her toe impatiently. Still Shenron didn't tell her the wish was granted. Unease began to creep in as Bulma wondered whether he had overestimated his own abilities when he said it was possible for him to grant the wish. She stole a quick glance over her shoulder at the others, but they could only give helpless shrugs in return. Scowling, she turned back to the dragon, ready to scream at him for wasting her time and their wish.

But as soon as she opened her mouth to begin her lecture, Shenron's eyes glowed and he told her, "Your wish has been granted."

"Thank you!" she snapped, irritated with the dragon for making her so nervous. Turning, she started jumping excitedly, shouting with joy as she tackled Vegeta and hugged him, kissing him in front of everyone.

Vegeta stood rigid as she attacked him with affection, neither rejecting it nor reciprocating. He wouldn't see Mrs. Brief until he returned to Capsule Corporation where her body remained along with Raditz and Chi-Chi. And as soon as he visited her to make sure she was alive and well, he would leave Earth, leave behind his pack and his woman, the woman who was hugging and kissing him in celebration. It pained him knowing he wouldn't be taking her with him, but they still hadn't mated and so he figured it would be best for both of them if he went without her, never having become life mates. She would be free to find someone else on Earth – and though he wanted her to be happy, that thought made a wave of jealousy come crashing into his heart – and he wouldn't slowly deteriorate from the depression that would plague him if he separated himself from his mate. He wanted to mate, Kami he wanted her so bad it made him feel nauseous, but he could refuse his carnal desires for a few more hours and never have the chance to satisfy them afterward.

After a minute, Bulma stepped back from him, studying his face in the hopes of figuring out why he was standing there like a statue when he should have been kissing her or at least growling at her to save it for later. But his face was unreadable, making her search for answers fruitless. Frowning, she turned to Nappa, who was standing at the prince's side, silently asking him for an explanation.

Nappa felt her gaze and looked down at her with something akin to sympathy in his eyes. That only served to make Bulma more upset, so he told her, "You completed your training. You'll see what it was for soon."

She quirked an eyebrow, not sure how that related to her current confusion. "What?"

The large saiyan crossed his arms over his chest and turned his attention to the small house on the horizon. The others were all drifting that way for a small party or some such nonsense. The youngest saiyan and his half-breed son were still melancholy, no doubt their grief being heightened when they had to go along with the wish that wouldn't bring the harpy back right away. Finally, he rested his hand on her shoulder and pulled her aside, and, keeping his voice low so Vegeta wouldn't overhear told her, "Punch him. Don't ask me why. And when you've punched him, run like hell. Maybe then he'll tell you what's on his mind."

"What good would that do?" she hissed. "I don't want to piss him off!"

He smirked and gave her a small nudge toward the saiyan prince. "Trust me."

Turning on her heel, Bulma took a hesitant step toward Vegeta, who was watching them suspiciously. Throwing one last glance over her shoulder at her sensei, Bulma went up to Vegeta and stopped right in front of him. Then, without a word of warning, she balled her hand into a fist and punched him in the face, her blow fast and unexpected enough that he didn't react on time to block it or dodge. As soon as she pulled her hand away, she whirled around and started sprinting away from him as fast as she could.

Nappa watched with satisfaction as Vegeta slowly raised his hand to his cheek, tenderly touching the spot where her knuckles struck him. He wasn't hurt, but he was visibly stunned – and aroused. Vegeta's tail uncoiled from his waist and started flicking and thrashing behind him as he prepared to hunt her down. Chuckling, Nappa nodded his approval when Vegeta took off running after her. Strong and fast as he was, without ascending to super saiyan he was going to have a hell of a time catching her. She spent the past two and a half months training rigorously to become swift and agile, able to outrun stronger warriors and quickly change direction, dodge attacks, and divert anyone hunting her. Yes, she was ready for this.

Still looking quite pleased, Nappa turned in the direction of the Son household and walked over to join the party – or meeting. He didn't knock before letting himself inside, ignoring the hush that fell over the small group as he crossed the living room and leaned against the wall. "What are you all gawking at?" he snapped.

"Nothing, Mr. Nappa," Gohan replied. Since fighting alongside the aged warrior, the young demi-saiyan had a deeper respect for him that the others lacked. He gave Nappa a weak smile before turning his attention back to his father, who was standing in the center of the room and apparently leading a heated discussion.

Goku released a long breath and scratched the back of his head. The gesture seemed odd without his goofy grin spread across his face. "So anyway, like I was saying, Vegeta's planning on going into space to fight Frieza's brother and father and take down their whole empire. Bulma and her dad made three spaceships for Raditz, Vegeta, and Nappa to use so they could split up all over the universe."

Yamcha blew a raspberry. "Let them go, why should we care? I don't want to see them around anymore anyway." Then, as if just remembering Nappa was in the room, turned to the large saiyan and laughed nervously. "No offense, of course."

Snorting, Nappa looked at the scar-faced warrior and shot him with eye lasers. They weren't strong enough to kill, but they did singe Yamcha's clothes. While he sputtered in outrage, Nappa calmly regarded the other warriors before asking, "What's your interest in Vegeta's plans, Kakarrot? We're going to head to Namek and gather the dragon balls so we can wish your mate back to life first. That should be the only thing to concern you."

"Actually," Goku said as he squatted and rested his arms on his knees, "I was thinking maybe we could help. If there's three ships, we can have three teams. Then we could bring down the empire faster, don't you think? And anyway, why should we be stuck staying here when you get to go and fight? I bet Frieza's brother and dad are really strong!"

"Oh yeah, and that's a great reason to venture out into space, Goku," Krillin grumbled. "What if they're _stronger_ than Frieza? We'd be toast!"

"Burnt toast," Piccolo added.

"Come on, guys! Me and Vegeta are both super saiyans. Fighting them would be a piece of cake!" Goku whined.

Nappa shook his head. "King Cold might be an easy kill for a super saiyan, but Cooler is much stronger than Frieza. Even you and Vegeta might have trouble with him. It would be better if you stay here to fight him if he somehow gets past Vegeta and makes it here."

"He's coming here?" Tien asked.

Chiaotzu looked at Tien, then over at Nappa. "What for?"

"Simple. He'll want revenge for Frieza." Nappa shrugged and looked out the window. Though he was actively participating in the z-fighters' discussion, he was also keeping track of Vegeta and Bulma's ki. So far he hadn't caught up with her, and they were moving farther and farther away from the house. They definitely weren't going to be coming back anytime soon.

"…Nappa? Hey, Nappa?"

The bald saiyan grunted when he realized Goku was talking to him. "What?"

"Do you know where these Cooler and King Cold guys are? I mean, you have to know where they are if you're going to find them and fight them, right?"

"We know where they were at the time Frieza's ship landed on Earth." He pushed off from the wall and walked back over to the door to leave. "You're not going, Kakarrot. Vegeta's already decided it'll be him, me, and Raditz."

Gohan jumped up from where he was sitting on the floor and ran over to Nappa, clutching his pants in one small fist. "Wait, Mr. Nappa! Why can't my dad and I at least go to Namek? We should be there to wish back my mom. Please?"

Tien also stood up and frowned. "And why should we listen to Vegeta, anyway? We should help, too. If they're going to threaten Earth it's our right to help defend it!"

"Yeah!" Yamcha yelled, also rising from the couch and glaring at the old saiyan. "If they want to destroy Earth then this is our fight as much as it is yours."

Growling, Nappa opened the door and stepped outside. The tip of his tail was flicking with irritation as he snarled, "If you want to go so bad take it up with Vegeta!" He started closing the door before pausing and adding, "But you'd better wait a few hours or he'll probably kill you, and I wouldn't blame him."

Finally he slammed the door shut and walked a few yards away from the house before flaring his ki and taking off toward West City. When he focused, he could sense Raditz's ki back at the Capsule Corporation compound. So he had been revived, good. He cut off his senses telling him where Vegeta and Bulma were as he flew, not wanting to intrude in their affairs. He already knew what was going to happen and was content to leave it at that. While they were busy, he needed to consult with Raditz and Dr. Brief about the problem of the earthling warriors wanting to join the expedition to destroy the Cold Empire.

…

Vegeta wrapped his tail around Bulma's waist, pulling her closer when he felt her shivering from the cold. Her milky white skin was illuminated by the pale streams of moonlight breaking through the forest canopy above. He watched attentively as she stretched, sighing in her sleep, and nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. A small smile played on his lips as he gently stroked her hair, pulling out a dead leaf and tossing it into the breeze. Already she had been sleeping for two hours, but he was content to watch over her, drinking in her scent and learning every detail about her, from the feel of her smooth skin to the soft sound of her slow, steady breathing.

Time seemed to stand still as he lay with her. He knew he should have been more anxious to leave, to get back to Capsule Corporation and see Mrs. Brief before boarding a spaceship and leaving the planet for years. But all he wanted to do was stay with Bulma, his life mate. He held her close, allowing his body to warm her, breathing in her scent with each inhalation, feeling the rise and fall of her chest against him with each breath she took.

Closing his eyes, he replayed in his mind the instant he knew she was ready for him. He remembered the fierce determination flashing in her cerulean eyes as she frowned a little, biting her bottom lip as she clenched her right hand into a small fist. In that moment he knew she was going to be his forever; he had already staked his claim on her, but he hadn't yet taken her as his. When he saw her shift her weight to her back foot as she drew her fist back and then shift to her front foot as she twisted her body and brought her fist forward, driving it into his cheek, he knew she was finally ready. Shocked, aroused, excited, he watched as she turned and ran, inviting him to chase her until she could run no longer, giving herself to him in reward for his pursuit.

She ran for hours, crossing a great distance and always able to stay a few steps ahead of him. Each time he tried to pounce on her she would abruptly change direction or duck as he sailed over her. She climbed trees to evade him, crossed streams to hide her scent, and threw stones to make noise far from where she was to distract him. Chasing her proved to be a challenge, and each time she evaded him the drive to catch her grew more intense. Finally she started to grow tired, and he took his opportunity to jump on her and start ripping her clothes off. But Bulma still had some fight left in her and managed to throw him off and keep running several minutes longer before he pinned her down again and finished stripping her.

Urged on by his own desire and the musk of her arousal, he quickly undressed himself and kissed her aggressively until her breath came in shallow pants. Her flushed skin burned as he touched her, his hands memorizing every inch of her naked body. He nearly lost himself when he felt her small hands exploring his body in return and heard her softly moan his name. Had he wanted to resist his desire, keep himself from taking her so he could live with himself for leaving her behind on Earth, he lacked the restraint it would take to turn back at that point. No longer able to control himself, he flipped her onto her stomach and lowered himself over her, ready to finish their courtship and make her his mate for life.

He brushed her hair behind her ear and kissed her neck. His soft whisper tickled her ear as he made his vow to remain faithful to her for life, to protect and honor her with all his power. In return she breathed her own vow to be loyal and to love and respect him as long as she lived. Hearing her promise sent a thrill rushing through his body, the last push he needed to mate with her.

His eyes snapped open when he heard her moan quietly as she shifted her position, rolling away from him. He wanted to pull her back to him, but then she cracked her eyes open and blinked a few times before grinning when she met his gaze. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up and yawned. "What time is it?" she mumbled.

Seeing the fluid movement of her lithe body awakened a fresh wave of desire in his gut. Vegeta sat up and wrapped his arms around her slender waist, pulling her onto his lap. "Why does it matter?"

Bulma's eyes widened when she felt his full arousal. She glanced down and looked back up at him, at first unable to form words. But her surprise soon subsided enough for her to blurt, "You mean that wasn't a dream?"

"Idiot woman." Vegeta chuckled as he positioned her to start another round of mating. Kissing her, he groaned as he slid into her.

"What?" she moaned. Gasping as he moved inside her, she explained, "I thought it had to be a dream. I mean, you're like, huge, and oh my kami, it was amazing and—"

He bit her lip sharply. "Shut up," he growled. Satisfied when she quit her incessant babbling, he pulled her body against his chest and lost himself in the bliss she gave him. When he was with her, nothing else in the world mattered. Not his upcoming journey, not the destruction of an intergalactic empire, and not the potential threat to the Earth. When he was with her, the only thing that mattered was evoking wave after wave of frenzied pleasure.

It was almost dawn when Vegeta stood up and stretched. His tail curled and slowly swayed behind him. He hadn't gotten much sleep that night, but he hardly felt tired. Rather, he felt invigorated from his exhilarating activities with his mate. While he was looking around for his discarded clothing his stomach started growling, reminding him that he hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast the day before. In the dim pre-dawn light he saw his shirt hanging from a nearby tree branch. His shoes were several yards away and his pants and boxers were on the ground several feet away in opposite directions. He gathered his clothes quickly and returned to Bulma's side to wake her.

"Woman," he purred, gently shaking her shoulder. "Woman, wake up at once."

Bulma groaned and tried to bat his hands away, but he was persistent. She pouted when he pulled her to her feet so she couldn't fall back asleep. "What's going on?"

"It's time to return to the compound."

She covered her mouth with her hand as she yawned. "Go back so soon?"

"There are other matters we need to attend to, or have you forgotten about our plan to dismantle the Cold Empire?" Vegeta put his arms around her, keeping her warm when he saw goosebumps rising on her smooth skin. "We leave today."

"By 'we' you mean you, Nappa, and Raditz, right?" she asked sadly.

"I mean we." Vegeta kissed her, softly at first, but then more hungrily. He had to force himself to pull back when he felt his heart pounding with anticipation. "Get dressed, woman."

"In what? You ruined all my clothes last night."

Vegeta shoved his shirt into her hands before walking a few paces away and pulling on the rest of his clothes. Once dressed, he looked back over at her. For some reason seeing her wearing his shirt made him feel a swell of pride in his chest. The sleeves of the shirt swallowed her hands and it hung down almost to her knees. She wasn't that much shorter than him, but her frame was much slighter; there was no bulk to fill out the shirt. He went back to her and wrapped his tail around her waist as he scooped her up in his arms and jumped into the air, blasting off toward West City.

…

Goku landed in the front yard of Capsule Corporation along with his son and the rest of the z-fighters. Inside he could feel the low, stable ki of both Nappa and Raditz, but he couldn't sense Vegeta anywhere in the area. Strange considering he almost never left the compound. Shrugging, Goku went to the front door and rang the doorbell. He only waited a few seconds before the door was opened by Raditz.

Grinning, Goku stepped forward and hugged his brother. "Raditz! It's good to see you alive again."

"Uncle Raditz!" Gohan, who had been standing behind Goku's legs, jumped out and threw himself on Raditz when Goku pulled back. The boy had tears of joy in his eyes by the time the long-haired saiyan managed to dislodge him from his person.

"Hello, Gohan," he said. He set Gohan on his shoulders and turned around, gesturing for the others to come in. "I suppose you're here to talk to Vegeta about helping with the mission?"

"Well, yeah. But where is he? I don't sense his ki," Goku replied.

Raditz led them into the kitchen where the Briefs and Nappa were finishing their breakfast. He sat down in his seat and resumed eating. Goku sat down in Vegeta's seat and started helping himself to the food on the table. He was hungry; he and Gohan had been getting by without Chi-Chi's superb culinary skills, but they were by no means good at cooking and he was longing for a delicious meal. Following his father's lead, Gohan hopped down from his uncle's shoulders and took Bulma's usual seat and also started eating.

Piccolo grimaced when he saw the atrocious manners of the three full-blooded saiyans. He turned away from them, walking over to look out the window above the sink. "Where is Vegeta, anyway?"

"Yeah," Tien said, "We thought he'd be here."

Nappa grunted, but he didn't stop eating to explain Vegeta hadn't come back to the compound yesterday – and neither had Bulma. When they didn't receive an answer, the others wandered out of the kitchen to mill about while waiting for either Vegeta to return or the saiyans to finish breakfast so they could actually communicate. That was when they felt Vegeta's ki approaching at a relatively slow pace.

Vegeta sensed the group of warriors in the compound and growled. Bulma looked up at him when she heard it and felt the tip of his tail beating against her stomach. "What's wrong?"

"Kakarrot and the other idiots are there."

Bulma shrugged and started rubbing his back. "I wonder what they're there for. Maybe they just wanted to see if Raditz and my mom are okay." Her breath hitched. "Mom! Oh Kami, I almost forgot! She's alive!"

The saiyan arced down to the balcony of Bulma's room and carried her inside to shower and get dressed before going downstairs. He was leaving her room when she stopped him and kissed him once more. "Don't kill anyone."

"Hn." Vegeta quietly closed her door behind him and went down the hall to his own room. He headed straight for the bathroom and took his clothes off before getting in the shower. His mind was conflicted between two regrets: the first was regret that he waited so long to mate with Bulma, and the second was regret that he mated with her at all. Now he was practically obligated to take her on the dangerous mission into space. But, at the same time, he didn't mind as much as he might have. In fact, he was relieved that he bonded with her on a deep enough level that he couldn't rightfully desert her. In the end he disregarded both feelings of regret, instead reveling in the satisfaction of having Bulma as his life mate.

After his short shower, Vegeta dried himself off with a flare of ki and went into his bedroom to get dressed. He pulled on a pair of boxers, training pants, and a long-sleeved t-shirt. As he left his room, his stomach rumbled loudly. With a sigh he went downstairs, ignoring all the ki he felt around the compound, and walked to the kitchen to get some breakfast. He stopped in the doorway when he saw Goku and his brat sitting at the table stuffing themselves with _his_ breakfast. A snarl curled his lips as he growled, slowly advancing toward the table with his tail lashing behind him.

Goku looked up from his food and grinned when he saw the saiyan prince. "Oh, hi Vegeta!"

Vegeta jumped over the table and kicked Goku back into the wall. "Do you always come into another person's home and eat his food?"

"Huh? But you weren't here, so I thought—"

"You thought wrong!" Vegeta picked up his chair and sat down to eat. He had only taken a few bites when he started growling again as Piccolo and Krillin ran into the kitchen to see what the trouble was. Slamming his hands down on the table, making all the dishes clatter, he shouted, "What the hell are you all doing here anyway?"

Mrs. Brief giggled as she set a fresh platter of pancakes on the table. "Now Vegeta, dear, be polite. I've made enough for all of you."

"Thanks, Mrs. Brief," Goku said as he grabbed a folding chair from the pantry and set it up at the table to resume eating.

Vegeta gave Goku a cold glare before turning back to his plate and eating at a faster-than-normal pace, competing for the most food. Mrs. Brief had trouble keeping up with the saiyans' voracious appetites, but she did an outstanding job and, after about half an hour, ended up with a few extra pancakes neither saiyan could swallow. But that wasn't a problem as Bulma came into the kitchen and took her mother's vacated seat and claimed the remaining pancakes. She was rather famished herself and ate more than usual.

Mrs. Brief turned when she heard her daughter enter the kitchen. "Bulma, dear, when did you get home?"

Bulma smiled guiltily, peeking over at Vegeta before standing and rushing over to hug her mother. "I just got back a few minutes ago. Oh, Mom, I'm so glad you're back."

"I'm happy to be back, sweetie," Mrs. Brief said, stroking her daughter's blue hair. "But I did have company, you know. Goku's wife was there and we had a lovely garden. Oh! I do hope she doesn't forget to water the gardenias! It is a shame she couldn't come back too."

Bulma laughed. "I'm sure the gardenias will be fine. It's heaven, Mom. Not like things die there. And we're going to bring Chi-Chi back with the dragon balls on Namek, so it's okay."

"Namek? Oh, dear, I have so much to catch up on."

"Yeah," Bulma agreed. Wiping away a few stray tears, she went back to the table and sat down to talk while eating her pancakes. "Like the fact that Vegeta and I are kind of married."

Dr. Brief dropped his newspaper. "What was that, dear?"

Bulma blushed a little and shoved another bite of pancake into her mouth to avoid answering for a moment. Across from her, Vegeta smirked proudly and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for her to give the explanation to her parents. Beside him, Goku looked at him wonderingly. Bulma nearly laughed when she saw his happy, confused expression.

"Last night. Some sort of saiyan…ritual or whatever. I'm not telling the details, but we're married, in human terms." Bulma beamed as she told them the news.

Mrs. Brief ran over and hugged her daughter. "Well, that's wonderful, dear! I'm so happy for you. And you too, Vegeta!" Releasing her daughter, she rounded the table and hugged him and kissed his cheek. "Now you really are a part of the family."

Sighing, Vegeta endured her affection. He wasn't put off by it anymore, and actually he welcomed it this time. He was still plagued with guilt over her death and he was relieved to see she held no hard feelings or regret for her actions. Though he would never say so, he was disappointed when she let him go and went back to the sink to wash the dishes.

"Yes, dear," Dr. Brief said after overcoming his shock, "I'm glad you're both happy, though I wouldn't have minded knowing about this 'marriage' beforehand."

Bulma shrugged. "It wasn't really planned."

"Hn."

"Oh, there's kind of something else we should tell you," Bulma added, her voice dropping from the cheerful tone she used to reveal her marriage to Vegeta. Clearing her throat, she told her parents, "Vegeta's going into space to end the Cold Empire for good. Raditz and Nappa are going to go too, and… and I'm going with Vegeta."

"What's that you say, dear?" Dr. Brief asked. He put his hand in the pocket of his lab coat and pulled out his pack of cigarettes.

"I'm going into space with Vegeta. We'll go to Namek to wish Chi-Chi back and then we're going to destroy Frieza's army and take down his father's whole empire. We'll be gone a long time. Years, maybe decades." Her voice trembled as a lump rose in her throat, tears stinging her eyes. As happy as she was that she could stay with Vegeta, she hadn't realized until that moment that it meant leaving behind her parents, her home, and everything she ever knew.

"You're leaving Earth?" Mrs. Brief asked. "But when?"

"Today," Vegeta answered.

"To-today?" Dr. Brief took a cigarette out and put it in his mouth, chewing it as he tried to process what his daughter and son-in-law were saying. "Well, you are a married woman now, Bulma."

Nodding, she looked down at her wringing hands. "But who knows? Maybe it won't take that long and we'll be back a lot sooner. I mean, with Raditz and Nappa helping…"

"And the rest of us," Goku chimed in.

Vegeta coughed. "What?"

"Well, you see, that's why we're here," the younger saiyan explained. "We thought we should help. If this Cold and Cooler are going to come here and hurt people, we should go and stop them before they can. You'll need more than three of you fighting a whole army. So, why not have three teams and we can take the spaceships Dr. Brief built?"

Vegeta looked at Goku incredulously for a minute before shifting his gaze to Bulma. He cocked his head to the side, considering this new option. "It would be possible to work faster with more warriors," he conceded.

Bulma looked between the saiyans and shrugged. "I don't see why not. Hey, then Goku can be the one to go to Namek and wish Chi-Chi back. That's fair, don't you think? But I think if we have teams, some of us should stay behind in case of another invasion."

Dr. Brief nodded. "That would be a good idea. We don't want to leave the Earth without any defense."

"Fine then." Vegeta stood up and crossed the kitchen to leave. "Kakarrot, get your idiot friends together and we'll discuss who will come and who stays."

"Right." Goku followed Vegeta out of the kitchen and started rounding up his friends to gather in the living room where he felt Vegeta's ki.

A few minutes later all the warriors and the Briefs were in the living room waiting to hear the revised plan. Vegeta stood in the center of the room with Bulma at his side, trying to work out the best approach to take. There were many combinations of warriors he could send out in teams, but he wanted to make sure each team was strong without leaving only the weakest back on Earth to defend it in case of future attacks.

Bulma looked around at all her friends, wondering if she would ever see them again. She felt like her heart was breaking when she considered the possibility that this would be the last time she would see them all together like this.

"We were thinking at least two of you should stay behind on Earth in case anything happens," she told them. "We'll have three teams out in space."

Yamcha scowled. "And I suppose we're leaving it up to Vegeta to decide who stays and who goes?"

"Of course we are," Bulma snapped. "Did you forget he's the one who got us through the purge? He's better than anyone at planning a strategy of attack!"

Taken aback, Yamcha muttered, "Damn, Bulma, the way you praise him you'd think you were married to him or something."

"She is," Goku happily informed him.

While the scar-faced warrior was left sputtering, Vegeta finally worked out how to split up the warriors so each team would have optimal speed, strength, and brains. "Raditz, you will come with me and my woman."

Raditz nodded before glancing over at his brother and nephew, frowning a little. He wasn't going to disobey his prince, but he was upset nonetheless that he wasn't going with his pack. "Which ship will we be taking?"

"I'll show you," Bulma said. She held onto Raditz's arm and guided him out of the living room.

The corner of Vegeta's lips turned down before he assigned the next group. "Kakarrot, you, your brat, and Baldy will be the second team. You will go first to Namek before assisting in the takedown of the empire, understood?"

"Sure, Vegeta." Goku grinned and gave Krillin a high-five, happy that he was grouped with his lifelong best friend.

"The third team will be the Namekian, three-eyes, and the doll thing."

Nappa's jaw went slack. "Wait, Vegeta, aren't you forgetting about me? What team am I on?"

Vegeta turned to his bodyguard and shook his head. "You're not going, Nappa. You stay here to protect the Earth. You think scar-face will be able to handle it?" He glanced over at Yamcha, who didn't look pleased about being left behind by all his friends. "Besides, I need someone to stay here to coordinate our attack. I could do it, but it would be easier to have you here with access to all the information on army bases and movement. You will also be able to direct us, override our coordinates to reset our course, and maintain communication between teams in case of any malfunction with the ships. The old man will be here to help if you need to walk us through repairs or other ship maintenance."

He knew Vegeta's reasoning was sound, but he still felt sidelined, both because of his advancing age and lower power level. He simply couldn't keep up with the younger saiyans any longer. Still, Vegeta was counting on him to play an integral role in the overthrow of the Cold Empire and he would obediently serve his prince and help in any way he could. And anyway, who was a better choice than him for his job? He was the former commander of the saiyan army. Aside from Vegeta, he was the best tactician in the group, and with this kind of attack he may have been better.

"Yes, sir," he mumbled, bowing his head.

Vegeta turned his head to the side, unable to see his most loyal and faithful servant feeling overlooked and humiliated. "I need you here, Nappa," he said.

"I know."

Addressing the others in the room, Vegeta told them, "Gather whatever you need for the journey. The first coordinates have already been set in the ships. Dr. Brief will explain the controls to you before takeoff. If any of you wants to back out, do it now."

He waited for a minute, but he was faced with hard expressions of determination. It was then he finally realized these men were not cowards and they were not weak. Physically, yes, but they had the true strength of warriors. Perhaps they would be an asset in this mission after all. He nodded curtly before leaving the room to find his mate, following her ki upstairs to her bedroom.

Bulma emerged from her closet when she heard her door open and smiled when she saw who it was. "Hey, Vegeta. I'm just packing some things. Raditz is loading the supplies into the ships."

"You mean you're packing everything you own." Vegeta walked over to the bed and snorted when he saw the pile of capsules on the blanket. "This isn't a vacation, woman."

"It's not? Here I thought it was some sort of fucked up honeymoon." She giggled at his confused expression and disappeared into the closet to finish packing all her clothes. "So everyone was okay with the plan?"

"Hn." Vegeta sat on the edge of the bed. He wanted to tell her about Nappa, but he didn't want to burden her with the same guilt he was feeling. Keeping Nappa on Earth was a purely strategic move that didn't take into consideration the old warrior's already growing feelings of inadequacy.

"Do you really think it'll take years? With all of us working together, maybe it won't take so long."

Vegeta shrugged. "Maybe."

"There," Bulma said, walking out of the closet and tossing one more capsule on the bed with the others. "That's everything."

They looked around the room, slightly put off when they noticed for the first time how barren it looked without all her decorations, clothes strewn about the floor, and some of the furniture. Bulma sighed sadly as she grabbed an old pink backpack from the floor and started dumping the capsules inside. "I figured it was only appropriate to bring this old bag. It's the one I kept all my capsules and the dragon balls in on my first big adventure."

Vegeta looked at the bag disinterestedly. He couldn't understand her sentimentality over something so pointless. But then, he never grew attached to any material item. He couldn't have afforded to; either it would have been destroyed or taken away from him. The only hard part of leaving Earth was leaving behind the rest of his pack: Mrs. Brief, Dr. Brief, and Nappa.

While she slung the backpack over her shoulders, Vegeta coiled his tail around her waist and led her out of the room. The door clicked shut with a sobering finality. Bulma looked up at Vegeta nervously as they continued down the hall, past his room to the stairs. She wondered if he had even taken anything other than his armor. She was sure he had that packed in a capsule somewhere. Downstairs, they turned down the hall to take them to the back door of the compound, passing by her laboratory. The metal door was closed, but as she looked at it Bulma could imagine perfectly where everything was and what she needed to do to finish all her incomplete projects. Needing reassurance, she put her arm around Vegeta and leaned into him, comforting herself with his warmth and scent, knowing that while she was leaving home behind, she was going to be with him. And he was all she needed.

_A/N: You didn't really think I'd let Vegeta leave without Bulma - again - did you? If you were disappointed that there wasn't much "action" in the last chapter, I'm sorry, but this story isn't about the action. It's about the changes in the characters. What else... haven't written the last chapter yet. The next one kind of went in a different direction than I intended and I'm not sure if I'm going to stick with it. We'll see. Oh, and I guess there should have been a warning for zest of lemon. Whoops. And happy belated birthday, anny._

_Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	72. Winter Ends

Winter Ends

Vegeta hit the disengage button on the gravity simulator and trudged over to the captain's seat of the spaceship, dropping into it unenergetically. He had been training for a few hours and finally decided it was time to rest when his stomach started growling. But before going down to the lower deck, he wanted to check the coordinates of their next destination and how much time it would be before landing. Before he began his training, it was a little under 17 hours. Now it was closer to 12. More than enough time to eat and sleep. Yawning, he stood and stretched, then walked over to the ladder that led down to the lower deck. There was a kitchen, pantry, and small living room in the middle with sleeping quarters on opposite sides, each with its own miniature bathroom. Their living arrangements were rather cramped, but at least they could have some privacy, and it gave Bulma a safe place to stay while the saiyans were using the gravity simulator on the upper deck.

Bulma was sitting at the small kitchen table talking to her father on a video communicator when he came down. Though she couldn't keep up her full duties as vice president of Capsule Corporation while in space, she called home every day both to see and talk to her parents and to help her father with some business and keep up to date on its growth. Seeing her mate coming down for his meal, she said goodbye to her father and ended the transmission.

"Hey, 'Geta," she said cheerfully as she got out of her chair and went around the table to kiss him. "How was training?"

"Fine. Where's Raditz?"

"I think he went to sleep about twenty minutes ago." Bulma looked over at his door and shrugged. "Why, do you need him for something?"

Vegeta smirked. "No." He pulled Bulma flush against him and trailed his hands down to her legs, lifting her and wrapping her legs around his waist. He kissed her forcefully as he walked over to the counter, setting her on it and pushing her skirt up around her waist.

Bulma giggled and started unbuttoning her blouse. "You don't think we'll wake him?"

"If we do, he'll know better than to come out of his quarters." Vegeta kissed along her jaw and down her neck, purring when she freed him from his training shorts and pulled him closer with her legs.

"I thought you'd be hungry after training," she said through a moan.

He nipped her neck and shoulder. "I am." But, as she had learned over the past two years, sating his hunger was not always his top priority after training. And, as usual, she wasn't complaining as he took her to the heights of pleasure and held her there for far longer than she thought possible. Despite being tired from training and hunger, it was a long time before he ate his dinner.

After he ate, they retired to their quarters to sleep for a few hours. Vegeta sat on the edge of their bed and watched Bulma as she sat in front of her vanity and smeared moisturizer on her face and brushed her hair until the silky strands were free of frizz and tangles. He never did understand her obsession with her appearance, but he rather liked the end result so he never (well, rarely) said anything about the pointlessness of her habits.

"We should land in about ten hours," he told her when she came over to the bed and sat next to him.

Bulma sighed and nodded slowly. "So this is it, huh? Finally got to Cooler's hideout. Man, that coward's been leading us all over the galaxy for the past six months. You don't think he's set up an ambush for us, do you?"

"With what army?" Vegeta snorted and put his arm around her waist, holding her close. "We've already stopped at seven of his major base planets and killed every soldier there. And Kakarrot and the Namekian are in other galaxies killing his soldiers as well."

"I guess I'm just a little nervous."

Vegeta chuckled and pulled her down on the bed, wrapping both arms around her. "What is there to be nervous about, woman? I'm stronger than I was when I defeated Frieza, and Raditz is close to ascending. Sleep now. You can't be tired when we land."

Even with his reassurances it was long after she heard Vegeta's breathing slow that she finally fell asleep with him. She was too worried, her mind conjuring up a hundred ways Cooler could defeat Vegeta that didn't necessarily include him being the stronger warrior. Hell, it was hard to imagine anyone being stronger than her mate now that he was in full control of his ascended form. But if Cooler was anything like Frieza, he was a ruthless beast who would use any advantage he could find, exploiting it without shame. She hoped she wouldn't be that weakness. He finally got her to promise to stay away from the battle, but that didn't guarantee Cooler would stay away from her.

Vegeta woke a few hours later and carefully got out of bed to avoid waking up Bulma. He stopped at the edge of the bed and looked down at her, brows furrowing as he felt her ki. Something about it was different. It wasn't unhealthy, but something about it was off. Unable to decipher what had changed, Vegeta shrugged it off and went to the bathroom to take a shower before she got up.

By the time he finished his shower and dried off, the anticipation of a good fight was making him jittery. Already adrenaline was coursing through his veins and they were still three hours from landing. Bulma still hadn't woken up, so he went over and sat on the edge of the bed and watched Bulma sleep for a few minutes, still unable to figure out what was different about her ki. He couldn't put his finger on what the change was. She wasn't stronger or weaker and it wasn't spiking and dropping as if she were in danger, real or imagined.

Finally, shaking his head, he rose from the bed and went out to the kitchen to find some breakfast. He didn't have any particular attachment to the planet Earth, but he definitely did miss Mrs. Brief's cooking. More often than not he had to make his own breakfast, and for his other meals he had to rely on Bulma. She wasn't a bad cook per se, but her culinary skills were limited to a few select meals she was good at and a few others she could usually prepare decently. Anything else was purely experimental and may or may not be edible even for a saiyan. If that wasn't bad enough, their food supply consisted of foods with long shelf lives and what food they picked up from other planets when they stopped was sometimes good for eating and sometimes better used for bartering for other commodities.

He was finishing his breakfast when Raditz came out to the kitchen and started scrounging around for food. A few minutes later Vegeta felt Bulma's ki rise slightly as she roused from sleep and moved across their quarters to the bathroom to shower. He hoped he left enough hot water for her so he didn't have to listen to her screeching about how he always used it all before she could shower. He got up and carried his dishes over to the sink to wash later before going to the upper deck to try sending a transmission to Nappa with the ship's communication system to verify the coordinates of Cooler's location. He would have the most recent information since Bulma had hacked into the mainframe of one of Cooler's largest bases and set it up so all incoming information about any of Cooler or King Cold's armies would be forwarded to Capsule Corporation. It was an impressive feat that not only astounded Vegeta but proved invaluable many times already.

The saiyan prince sat in the captain's seat and pushed the button to begin transmission with Earth, hoping Nappa would answer soon. The last thing he wanted was for Cooler to leave the planet they were going to before he could get there, leaving behind another expendable segment of his army. Looking out the main window, he could see a small speck of light far from the star it orbited. There, supposedly, he would find the elder of the Cold brothers to finally kill him. It would take more than his death – or even his father's death – to break up the empire completely, but it was a huge step in the process.

He hadn't realized he lost himself in thought until he felt a small hand on his shoulder, bringing him back to reality. "What is it, woman?"

Bulma walked around the seat and sat down across his lap, looping one arm around his neck and using the other to cup his face, making him look at her. "Is something wrong? I called your name three times and you didn't answer."

"Nothing is wrong." Vegeta reached up and pulled her hand away from his face, but he didn't let it go.

"If you say so." Bulma rested her head on his shoulder and watched as the stars flew past. Even after traveling through space for two years she never lost her sense of wonder at the incredible distances they covered between planets. "It's hard to imagine you did this all the time when you worked for Frieza."

"Did what?"

"Traveling in space like this. Wasn't it lonely?" Bulma shifted a little in his lap so she could see out the window better.

"No." He wanted her to drop the conversation. This certainly wasn't the first time she compared their current mission to those of his mission under Frieza. Each time she did he was forced to note the similarity between the purges of planets the lizard wanted to conquer and the purging of the army bases. The only consolation he had in this was that he was killing soldiers in a war rather than defenseless civilians in an unwarranted slaughter. Still, it made him uncomfortable knowing he was doing what he had always done and hoped never to do again after deciding to reside on Earth. Even worse, it forced him to accept the fact that, though Frieza was locked in the Dead Zone for eternity, he was still exerting power in his life through his family. Cooler and King Cold undoubtedly wanted revenge for Frieza's undoing, which meant Vegeta had no choice but to kill them as well. In his efforts to protect his freedom and safety, he had to compromise both until the Cold Empire was disestablished.

Bulma sensed his dismal mood and sighed softly. She had hoped that his moodiness would ease once Frieza was gone, but it didn't. Apparently that was just a part of Vegeta. "So what do we do for the next two hours?"

Vegeta snorted. "I'm trying to send a transmission to Nappa, but he isn't replying."

"I think it's like two in the morning there."

"So?" Vegeta groaned and leaned back in the seat, rubbing his temples.

She laughed a little and twisted around so she could reach the controls. "Well, if we can't reach Nappa then why not contact Goku? We haven't gotten an update on their progress for a few days."

"Do as you like, woman." Vegeta lifted her off his lap and slipped out of the seat to go train in normal gravity to pass the time.

Bulma cut the pending connection to Earth and entered the command to send a transmission to Goku's ship. She had to wait a while before the two ships could connect, but eventually she saw Gohan's face on the screen. "Hey, kid," she greeted him. "Is your dad around?"

"Hi, Bulma!" the demi-saiyan chirped. He looked over to the side and then turned back to the screen. "He's busy training right now. Do you want me to get him?"

"No, that's okay. I was just wondering how you guys have been doing. Chi-Chi still making you study?"

Gohan nodded, smiling weakly. Since wishing his mother back to life, she had been traveling with them since they didn't have time to return to Earth. Besides, she didn't want to stay on Earth while her husband and son were out tramping across the universe. "Yeah, but she still lets me train a couple hours every day. I've gotten a lot stronger, and my dad's trying to help me become a super saiyan."

"That's great," Bulma said. "Where are you going now? Have you gotten a lock on King Cold's location?"

The boy shook his head, scowling a little. "No, he's been hard to find. His ship travels faster than ours and reports about his movement aren't always clear. Nappa sends us reports whenever he receives information about him, but it's not usually helpful."

Bulma slumped back in her seat and tapped her chin with her finger. "It's weird that he's always moving. Vegeta said he used to always stay on his home planet. Maybe he's afraid to fight a super saiyan. I wouldn't blame him."

Gohan grinned proudly. "Yeah, my dad could beat him. But since we can't find him we're going to the base planets and taking care of the army."

"Good idea. At least then Cooler and King Cold won't have anyone to send to purge more planets and kill more billions of people." Bulma ran her hand through her long hair and looked around the ship. Not that there was anything new or interesting to see. "Hey, you want to talk to your uncle?"

"Yeah!"

"Alright, I'll go get him. It's been good seeing you, kid. Tell everyone hi for me, okay?" Bulma stood up and went down to the lower deck where Raditz was still eating. "Hey, Raditz, Gohan is waiting for you to talk to him. You've got about an hour before we land."

Raditz quickly finished off his breakfast and went over to climb the ladder to the upper deck. Bulma sat down in one of the chairs at the table and groaned. She was tired of being cooped up in the ship. It had been almost three months since their last landing. She was ready to feel firm ground beneath her feet and the pull of real gravity, breathe some fresh air. The next hour passed slowly for her as her excitement to leave the ship grew, but finally she heard the computerized voice announcing landfall would be in ten minutes, so she went up the ladder and strapped herself into the captain's seat for landing.

Considering how far from its star the planet was, it wasn't surprising to see it was a frozen wasteland. Bulma cursed her luck as she pulled on several layers of clothes, topping off the look with snow boots and a stocking cap. She knew she looked ridiculous, but she was not going to waste an opportunity to leave the ship when she had it. Besides, Vegeta wanted her to stay a safe distance from the ship, which he considered to be an easy target for attack. She told him he could just capsulate it, but that wouldn't have helped her anyway and he insisted a capsule was too easy to get lost or stolen.

While she was bundling up, Vegeta and Raditz had changed into their armor in preparation for battle. They met up in front of the hatch while the saiyans searched for any nearby ki. Feeling none, they gave the go-ahead for Bulma to lower the hatch. She was pleased when they stepped outside and noticed there wasn't gusting wind and snow blinding them. Still, it was insanely cold and she had to raise her ki to keep herself warm even under all the layers of clothing she was wearing.

"Why would anyone want to come to a planet like this?" she muttered, her voice sounding loud in the crisp, still air.

"The lizards thrive in cold climates few other species could endure." Surveying the area, Vegeta spotted an icy alcove and pointed to it. "Take cover over there, woman. Try to keep your ki low, but don't freeze to death. I'll go after Cooler and Raditz will stay back to fight any soldiers, so if you need help he should be able to reach you. You know the signal."

Bulma nodded and hugged him as tightly as she could, though her arms hardly bent. She kissed him and backed away. "Be careful, Vegeta." She turned to Raditz before heading over to the alcove. "And good luck to you."

At least an hour passed before Bulma heard the telltale sounds of battle. Shockwaves shook the ground and rang through the air and the dark sky periodically lit up with exploding ki blasts. She never saw any soldiers, so Raditz must have been doing a good job of holding them off and killing them before they could reach her. It was nerve-wracking to sit still and wait for them to defeat Cooler, but there was little she could do to help. She kept up with her training enough to stay as strong as she was at the time of Frieza's arrival on Earth, but she hadn't gotten any stronger.

The minutes dragged by as the sounds of battle came faster and louder. Either they were moving closer to her or they were speeding up and putting more power into their attacks. The latter was more likely; Vegeta was always careful when fighting to keep it as far from her as possible. There was no way to know who was winning – if anyone was at this point – and who had a greater chance of defeating his opponent. Bulma hated not knowing what was going on and having no way of finding out. She understood that she had to keep her distance to remain safe and not distract her mate, but in her opinion battles always seemed worse when she couldn't see them and know for sure that Vegeta was doing well. As she sat there, crouching behind a wall of ice and snow, she thought for the millionth time that she needed to learn to sense ki as all her friends could. It would certainly help her relax while her mate was battling far away.

She nearly forgot the cold as she listened, trying to make sense of each sound. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she strained to hear more. But it was hopeless. She was too far away and there was no way to know what was causing the booms that shook the heavens. So intent was she on the battle that she nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a large hand on her back. She spun around and sighed with relief when she saw that it was Raditz.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be helping Vegeta?" she asked.

The long-haired saiyan shook his head as he sat down beside her. "No, he wants me to stay here with you to keep you safe. From soldiers or the cold I'm not sure." He chuckled a little and draped his arm over her shoulders. "You don't have to worry about him so much, you know. He's grinding that lizard into the dirt."

"Really?" Bulma craned her neck to see where the battle was raging, but she couldn't see anything anyway. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure. Cooler is losing power fast. It won't be long before Vegeta finishes him."

True to his word, it was only a few more minutes before the noise of battle stopped. The silence that followed was deafening as Bulma waited for Vegeta to return, afraid to see what condition he would be in after fighting Frieza's older and presumably stronger brother. Unable to contain her apprehension, she stood up and ran to the spaceship to get all the medical supplies ready. She didn't have to wait much longer before Vegeta arrived at the ship and came inside, closing the hatch behind him to block out the cold. Bulma frowned when she saw him covered in blood – not all of which was his own – and burns, cuts, and bruises. He walked with a limp and his breathing was heavy and ragged.

"Come on, 'Geta," she said, "I'll get you cleaned up. You beat him?"

Vegeta smirked, reopening his busted lip that had already begun healing. "Another Cold is dead. Only one more survives, and now we can spend more time tracking him down. I need to send the message to Nappa to let him know."

Raditz went over to the captain's seat and sat down. "I'll take care of it, Vegeta."

Bulma ordered Vegeta to take off his armor and started cleaning the blood off him, carefully dabbing at the deeper wounds. She hadn't seen him covered in so many injuries since, well, since he fought Frieza. At least he didn't have any particularly serious wounds that his body couldn't heal on its own. She was relieved that he didn't make it out of the battle in worse shape, but more than anything she was relieved that Cooler was finally defeated. They were one step closer to ending the Cold Empire, which meant they were one step closer to returning home. She smiled at the thought of seeing her parents again, finally safe from the Colds.

…

Goku really liked the last planet they stopped at. It was a small planet far removed from any bases, but it was a hospitable planet good for a pit stop before traveling on to the next galaxy in search of King Cold. They spent a lot of time on that planet, but the natives were friendly and they provided more than enough food to feed a saiyan and his half-breed son and two humans. Not only that, but they taught him a new technique that would definitely come in handy. Eager to share his new technique with everyone, he opened a three-way transmission with the other two Capsule Corporation ships and waited for the connections to go through.

It had been eight months since they received word that Cooler was defeated, and during that time they stopped at two more base planets and killed all the soldiers stationed there. While he still didn't like killing and didn't like having his son learning to kill, he knew that the universe was a better place because of it. Soldiers for the Cold Empire were evil, and while some of them may have been redeemable, he figured it wasn't worth the risk of letting them live when they might seek vengeance or rise up to take the throne of tyranny once the Colds were gone.

The transmission finally connected and he saw the faces of Vegeta and Piccolo side-by-side on the screen. It was hard to believe they were thousands of light-years apart when they looked so close in front of him. Grinning, he waved at them. "Hi, guys!"

"What do you want, Kakarrot?" Vegeta growled.

Goku laughed, rubbing the back of his head. "I wanted to tell you about this great new technique I learned on this planet we stopped at for supplies."

Piccolo raised an eyebrow. "What technique?"

"Unless it's some way to find King Cold I don't care," Vegeta snapped.

Goku cocked his head to the side. "Hey, I hadn't even thought of that. Maybe if I could sense his ki…"

"What is it?" Piccolo barked.

"Oh yeah!" Goku was so excited he jumped out of his seat as he explained, "It's called instant transmission. All I have to do is lock onto someone's ki anywhere and I can teleport myself there instantly."

"This I have to see," Vegeta grumbled.

Piccolo crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm with Vegeta on this one."

"Well, okay." Goku looked thoughtful for a minute before snapping his fingers. "I know! Vegeta, can you raise your power really high? Maybe I'll be able to sense it from where I am and use IT to come to you."

Scoffing, Vegeta nodded his assent. In a flash he ascended to super saiyan and pushed his ki as high as he could without inadvertently destroying the spaceship with his power. "Can you sense me now?"

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Goku?" Piccolo asked warily. "Even if you can do what you say you can, you're both moving faster than light. How would you be able to hone in on his ki and go to where he was? You might end up in space where he was at the time you sensed him and get yourself killed."

"Aw, don't worry, Piccolo," Goku assured him. "With this technique I can move even faster than the ships. Alright, I think I found you, Vegeta. Going in three – two – one –"

Goku suddenly appeared behind Vegeta, waving stupidly at the screen over his shoulder. "See, guys?"

Vegeta jumped, spinning around. He gaped disbelievingly at the younger saiyan before he could mask his surprise with stoicism. Soon gaining control of himself, he remarked with a markedly bored tone, "Well, that could be useful."

"Hey, I could see Raditz and Bulma while I'm here!" Goku walked off to find the other passengers aboard the ship, abandoning the conversation he started.

Piccolo shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Is that all, then?"

Vegeta shrugged. "Apparently. Do you have anything to report?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. We're still going to base planets to destroy the army. This galaxy is almost clean. Any news on King Cold?"

The prince shook his head. "Nothing as of three hours ago when Nappa called. But I think I might have a way to flush him out."

"How?"

Vegeta glanced over his shoulder when he heard a crash on the lower deck. He stood up and walked away from the control panel, muttering to himself about the younger saiyan's idiocy.

"Bulma!" Goku shouted, pointing at her, "Why didn't you tell us?"

The blue-haired woman shrugged. "I guess it just never came up."

"How could that _not _come up?" Goku picked up his chair and sat down in it backwards, shaking his head slowly.

She laughed, rubbing her round belly with one hand. "Okay, so I didn't tell you because Vegeta didn't want anyone to know. So don't tell anyone else, got it?"

"Sure, I guess." Goku whistled lowly, scratching his head. "Wow, Bulma. That's really great. You've been feeling okay and everything?"

"Yes, Goku, I'm fine."

Vegeta jumped down to the lower level and rushed over to Bulma's side. He coiled his tail around her waist possessively, snarling at Goku.

Bulma laid her hand on his arm to calm him down. "Relax, Vegeta. Why are you a super saiyan? Something going on?"

Visibly relaxing, Vegeta shook his head. "No. Now how the hell do you plan to get back to your own ship?"

"Huh? Oh. Gee, I don't know."

Vegeta smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. "Idiot."

"How did you get here in the first place, Goku?" Bulma asked.

"Instant transmission!" Goku then preceded to tell her all about how he learned the technique and how he honed in on Vegeta's ki to make the jump to their spaceship from his own. Bulma didn't try to hide how impressed she was when he explained it to her. Vegeta didn't like that she was so interested in the other saiyan's new ability, so he found himself struggling to suppress jealousy more than listening to the conversation. With his mate's current condition his instinctive drive to protect her was heightened and his possessiveness was exponentially greater. Sometimes it was hard to keep himself from ripping Raditz's throat out when he so much as looked at Bulma in a way that could be interpreted wrongly.

Vegeta was only able to endure the rest of Goku's visit by blocking out his senseless drivel. He occupied his mind with any other thought that would enter his head, sometimes focusing on the ki of his growing son, planning how to lure King Cold back to his home planet where he would walk into an ambush, how much he wanted eggrolls, and even how he could push Raditz to ascend to super saiyan. For a while he even considered the possibility of reaching a level higher than a super saiyan, a strange but increasingly persistent thought weaving through his mind. After about two hours Goku finally decided it was time for him to get back to his family. When he couldn't sense his son's ki – easily the highest ki on his own spaceship – he decided to take a detour, using IT to move to Otherworld where he could get King Kai's help to find Gohan and get back to him.

Once he was gone, Vegeta went back to the upper deck and sat in the captain's seat to send a transmission to Capsule Corporation. He had some planning to do with Nappa. It only took three minutes for the transmission to go through and he saw the face of his former bodyguard on the screen looking rather exhausted. It never occurred to him that he might be calling at some ungodly hour in the morning, especially since Nappa had Dr. Brief set up a mechanism that would wake him up whenever a call was coming in from one of the ships. Now Nappa answered right away almost every time, no matter what time it was at the compound.

"Vegeta, what's going on?" Nappa asked tiredly. He rubbed his eyes while trying to suppress a yawn.

The saiyan prince smirked. "I've been thinking of a way to locate King Cold. Or rather, play him into our hands.

"What's that?"

"We know very little about him, but we _do_ know that before we started our mission he spent almost all his time on the Cold planet. It was his base of operations and his home. Frieza and Cooler sometimes traveled there to meet him, but he rarely – if ever – went anywhere to meet with them. In other words, we know he values his home planet." Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for Nappa to figure out where he was taking this line of thought.

"So you think you'll find him there?" Nappa asked, still not getting it. "But we've received several reports over the past few months that he's moving from planet to planet, not even in the same galaxy."

"Which leaves his own planet vulnerable."

At first Nappa raised an inquiring eyebrow, but then he realized what Vegeta was suggesting and silently mouthed an 'o.' He threw his hands up in the air, then, exclaiming, "Why didn't we think of that before? If you threaten his home planet he'll go back to try and protect it!"

Vegeta nodded. "Hypothetically. Which ship is going to land on a Cold army base soonest? I'm sure King Cold hears of all the attacks on the bases, and if we were to send a message to him from one of his own bases, he would be likely to receive it."

"It's a good plan. How do we know it'll work?"

"We don't, but I'm sick of chasing the coward across the universe. I'm done waiting for him to make a move. This time we're invading _his _planet and it'll be up to _him_ to save it. He knows that we defeated both Frieza and Cooler. He won't be stupid enough to rely on his soldiers to defend his planet from us. He'll come personally."

"Right." Nappa ran his tongue over his bottom lip as he searched for information on the Cold planet and calculated which spaceship was scheduled to land on an army base next. Their databases on Cold Empire information had grown substantially over the past two years; now they had essentially everything on file and readily accessible. It didn't take long for Nappa to pull up all the known information on the Cold home planet and scan through it.

"Who will land first?" Vegeta asked.

Nappa looked back to the screen, having momentarily forgotten Vegeta was still on the line. "Kakarrot."

"Fine. Give him a message to relay to King Cold from the base. What information do you have on the Cold planet?"

"I'll forward it to you," Nappa said. "It looks like the Namekian will actually be closest to it at the time Kakarrot delivers the message, but I don't think he and three-eyes will be strong enough to take King Cold."

Vegeta snorted. "Obviously."

"You and Kakarrot are actually both moving away from it. If I reset your course now, it would still take you almost a year to get there, maybe longer." Nappa paused, stroking his mustache. "If Kakarrot leaves the base right away, it would take him around eight months to get there. But since we have no idea where Cold is, we don't know when he would make it back to his planet. We don't want to waste time stationing someone there if he won't be there, but it would be better to have one of our teams there first to keep him on the defense."

"Go ahead and reset the course," Vegeta ordered. "If he isn't there yet and we have extra time we can stop at nearby bases and take out the soldiers. That would prevent them from coming to aid King Cold anyway."

"Yes, sir. And what about the Namekian?"

Vegeta shrugged one shoulder. "Keep him in the general area. There should be many bases in that galaxy. If King Cold hears that the bases near his home planet are being destroyed he'll be more inclined to believe our threat anyway."

"Good thinking, Vegeta."

"Any other reports?"

"None recent."

"Good. Update the Namekian's course and tell Kakarrot what to do when he lands." With his final orders given, Vegeta cut the transmission and leaned back in the seat, watching the stars fly by for a few minutes before he stood up and went down to the lower deck. Raditz had already retired to his quarters and Bulma was sitting at the kitchen table nodding off.

The saiyan prince picked her up and carried her into their bedroom. By the time he had her undressed she had already fallen asleep, so he laid her on the bed and pulled the covers up over her. He sat there watching over her a minute, then stripped down to his boxers and crawled under the covers, pulling her close and resting his hand on her belly. At first he felt their son kicking, but soon he settled down. In the darkness Vegeta allowed himself to smile, both with pride and contentment. He held in his arms everything that mattered to him. He feared for their safety as he planned to go after King Cold, but he trusted his own power to be enough to protect them from harm. What terrified him more was the prospect of having to help her give birth. She said she was due in another month, but he felt the fluctuations in both her ki and the baby's, and he knew it would be time sooner than she thought. But he didn't tell her, not wanting to trouble her. He could tell she was nervous about giving birth without a doctor already. But there was no need for her to worry; as a saiyan he knew instinctually what to do to help his mate through it. But that didn't mean he felt comfortable with it.

…

"So _this_ is a super saiyan?"

Goku grinned and rubbed the back of his head. "What? No, I mean yes I am, but not right now."

The giant tyrant who bore a strong resemblance to Frieza's second form raised an eyebrow, frowning at the foolish saiyan. He had rushed back to his home planet to protect it, expecting to encounter some mighty warrior with an insatiable thirst for blood. Also, he expected him to be taller. But, he knew as well as anyone that it was unwise to judge an opponent by size; after all, neither of his sons were anywhere near his own size.

Goku's expression grew more serious as he stopped laughing and rested his hands on his hips. Not far away he could sense Krillin and Gohan battling some of King Cold's lackeys. Chi-Chi was back at the ship lying low. "I was going to wait for Vegeta, but I don't think that'll be necessary."

"Vegeta?" King Cold asked. "Isn't that the name of the monkey prince?"

"Monkey?" Goku's expression betrayed his confusion. "No, Vegeta's a saiyan."

Rolling his eyes, King Cold shifted into an offensive fighting stance. His cape billowed behind him in the freezing wind. "I don't believe it was you who defeated my sons, but I am perfectly willing to kill you anyway."

Goku frowned as he took his own fighting stance. His ki flared up around him, not so much to power up as to keep warm. He hadn't planned on the planet being so cold, so he was only wearing his orange gi – and freezing. "You can try."

King Cold lunged forward, but to Goku his movement seemed clumsy and awkward. Either he wasn't much of a warrior or he was out of practice and his technique was rusty. The saiyan easily jumped over him, kicking him in the face before landing cleanly behind him. His frown turned into a pout when he heard the emperor's cry of pain. Here he finally got the chance to fight one of the Colds and he turned out to be a total weakling, no challenge at all.

He was still brooding when he was struck by a swift kick to the gut that forced him back a few yards. Coughing, Goku sat up, eyes widening when he saw the specks of blood in the snow. After wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he jumped to his feet and ran forward with fist raised to strike. He was surprised when King Cold dodged the blow and retaliated with a hard right hook.

'Maybe he'll be a challenge after all!' Goku thought excitedly.

They were still fighting when Goku saw a flash of light dart across the sky and felt Vegeta's and Raditz's ki on the planet. He ducked under a kick and swept King Cold's other foot, felling the large creature. While he was down, Goku flew up into the sky and finally powered up to super saiyan – not necessarily because he needed to, but because he wanted to show the monster what a super saiyan was before finishing him off. Cupping his hands at his side, he started gathering energy for his kamehameha wave.

He didn't need much time to charge his attack before releasing his beam of energy on the Cold emperor. King Cold was, in fact, much weaker than his sons; his main advantage was his size, and that wasn't enough of an advantage to hold his own against Goku even before he ascended to super saiyan. He screamed as his body broke apart and incinerated in the ki beam, leaving nothing more than muddy ash on the ground where the ice and snow were melted. Lowering himself to the ground, Goku turned in the direction he felt Vegeta and Raditz and waited for them to come.

Just a few minutes later the two saiyans appeared on the horizon and soon they were landing near Goku, looking around at the battleground. Raditz was the first to speak. "So he's dead?"

Goku nodded. "He wasn't really that strong. I was kind of disappointed."

"Don't be a fool, Kakarrot," Vegeta growled.

"Gee," Goku said lightly, "I thought you'd be a little happier that he's gone. If he's dead then the empire's gone too, right? I mean, there's no one for the army to follow anymore."

Raditz shuffled uncomfortably when he saw Vegeta turn on his brother with anger burning in his obsidian eyes. "Are you that much of an idiot? You killed him before I got here. I explicitly told you not to kill him before I could get here!"

"What's the big deal?" Goku asked. "What, did you want to be the one to kill him? You already got Frieza _and _Cooler!"

"That's not the point!" Vegeta spat.

Raditz sighed, throwing his hands up in the air as he walked away from the arguing saiyans. He knew they could go on for quite a while with Vegeta becoming increasingly aggravated by his brother's stupidity. He sensed out Gohan's ki and took to the air to go find him and pay a visit while he had the chance.

"The big deal is that you could have _persuaded_ King Cold to assemble all of his troops here and then we could finish them all off at once instead of hunting the vermin down!"

Goku's cheerful smile drooped. "Oh. Oops. But hey, maybe we can use his ship to send a message and they won't know it's not from him!"

Vegeta's eyes narrowed. "You mean the ship _you _destroyed?"

"Um… yeah. That one."

"Idiot."

"Sorry." Goku rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, since everyone's here, why don't we hang out for a while? It's been a long time, you know."

Vegeta didn't care much about socializing with the band of misfit warriors from Earth, but he knew his woman would want to see her old friends. And she would definitely want to show off their son and brag about how fast he was growing, the fact that he was already walking and starting to talk, and every other little thing he did. He turned back toward his ship, a small smirk curling his lips. Well, what wasn't there to brag about? His son was growing strong and some day he would be a mighty warrior worthy of his royal saiyan lineage.

"Whatever. I'm going back to my ship. If you want to 'hang out' you can go there." Vegeta levitated off the ground, flaring his ki, and took off.

Not an hour later Goku and his family plus Krillin were in Vegeta's ship and Piccolo, Tien, and Chiaotzu were landing nearby. They gathered in the lower deck living area to celebrate the end of the Cold family. Bulma and Chi-Chi immediately went to work preparing a huge feast from their odd stockpile of food while the men sat around relating all the gory details of their feats on the base planets. All of them except for Vegeta, who stayed in the kitchen area with his mate, careful to stay out of the way as the women scurried around the small room. His ears rang from their delighted shrieking, laughter, and excited squeals whenever the lavender-haired demi-saiyan infant so much as babbled or balled his chubby hands into fists.

"So Chi-Chi," Bulma asked as she started washing some dishes to reuse for another portion of the extravagant meal, "when are you due?"

Chi-Chi shrugged, but her smile brightened. "I'm not sure the exact date, but I think about ten weeks."

"That's great!" Bulma said. "I'm so glad Trunks will have someone his age to play with who he can't accidentally maim or kill."

The other woman suddenly sighed, staring at the bowl of stuffing she had been mixing as she lost herself in thought. "Assuming we ever go back home."

"Don't say that, Chi! Now that King Cold is taken care of it shouldn't be much longer." She turned to her silent mate and quirked an eyebrow. "Right?"

Vegeta snorted. "Thanks to Kakarrot it may take several more years to eradicate the remnants of the Cold army."

Chi-Chi nearly dropped the bowl as tears started spilling down her cheeks. "_Years?_ Oh, no! I can't stand it flying around in that awful little spaceship for _years_! How will Gohan ever get into a good school? I don't want to raise my little baby in space! It isn't right!"

The saiyan prince ground his teeth as her voice rose with her hysteria. He didn't sugarcoat anything, but he was thinking maybe it would have been a good idea to sugarcoat his answer when talking to the normally overemotional and now very pregnant banshee. With ringing ears he finally left the kitchen and went into the cramped living room to lean against the wall and hope no one would bother him.

"So what now?" Krillin was asking his comrades. "We're done, right? We can go back home."

Raditz snorted derisively. "We're not _done _until the entire empire is gone, which means we keep fighting until every soldier is dead."

"How will we ever find all of them?" Tien argued. "They're all over the universe. There's no way we can hunt every one of them down!"

"Maybe not," Piccolo said, "But we can reduce the army to a few stragglers that wouldn't have the power, courage, or motivation to step up and run the empire in King Cold's place."

"How long will that take?" Tien muttered. "We've already been in space for over three years. I don't know about you, but I'm ready to go back to Earth."

Krillin nodded, smiling bashfully. "Yeah, I'm starting to think we'll never make it back. And I'm – I'm kind of homesick."

Vegeta scoffed, bringing everyone's attention to him. He rolled his eyes. "You're free to run home anytime, Baldy."

"With what ship?" Krillin retorted. "We don't have a spare!"

"Vegeta," Gohan mumbled, "don't you think we could go back to Earth for a while? Then we could go back to space and fight the army."

The prince sneered at them as he pushed off from the wall and started pacing. His tail unwound from his waist and flicked with irritation. "If you're all so damn eager to go back to Earth then go back! No one is stopping you."

"We can't leave you alone to take out a whole army," Goku said.

"I never asked for your help. Go back to Earth and give Nappa your spaceship. We can go back to the original plan."

"Aw come on, Vegeta, don't you think Bulma might want to visit Earth? And I bet her parents would love to see Trunks before he's all grown up." Goku looked around at his friends, who all nodded their heads in agreement.

Vegeta growled angrily as he went to the ladder to go up to the upper deck. He would rather train than listen to their stupidity. "Weaklings. I'm not stopping until it's done. If you want to leave your precious planet in danger, that's your business, but I will not settle down there and wait for the next attack."

Raditz frowned after Vegeta disappeared up the ladder. A few seconds later they heard the whirring sound of the gravity simulator. He sighed and raked his hand through his long mane. "You'll never convince him to go back to Earth before he thinks it's safe."

"Why?" Gohan asked. "Doesn't he want to go back?"

"He does, at least for the sake of his family. But he doesn't have any real attachment to Earth aside from his pack, so he doesn't understand why you want to return so bad. His main concern is killing all the soldiers before going back so he knows he's taking his family somewhere safe." Raditz looked at the door that led to the kitchen, imagining Bulma sitting at the table feeding Trunks as he had seen her do so many times. Vegeta didn't care about any particular planet, material items, or anything that the others took for granted. All he wanted was to keep his family safe, and if that meant spending the next twenty years or more in space, then he was willing to stay in space.

Goku bowed his head, then took a deep breath. "I think I understand where he's coming from. He's right, I guess. We have to finish what we started."

"Yeah," Krillin sighed. "You don't whack a hornet's nest and walk away without killing the hornets. Otherwise they'll follow you home and sting you."

"I guess that settles it then," Piccolo said. "We're not going home until the last remnants of the Cold Empire are destroyed."

…

Tien cut the transmission from Earth and stared at the blank screen for a few minutes before rising from the captain's seat and going to find Piccolo and Chiaotzu to tell them the news. He felt like he was in a daze as he descended the ladder to the lower deck where he expected to find Piccolo meditating and Chiaotzu cooking their meal. He wasn't surprised as they were exactly where he imagined they would be.

"What did Nappa have to say?" Chiaotzu asked when he saw Tien come into the kitchen.

The three-eyed man pulled out a chair from the table and nearly collapsed in it, still unable to believe what he was about to share with the others. He glanced over at Piccolo and saw that he was relaxing, which meant he was no longer meditating but listening in on their conversation, no doubt equally curious to hear Nappa's latest report.

"He said –" he stopped, cleared his throat, and continued, "He said we're finished. We're going home."

Chiaotzu gaped at Tien wide-eyed, unable to form words for a moment. Then words came flooding out of his mouth. "What? Are you serious, Tien? We're really going home?"

Smiling, Tien nodded. "It's kind of surreal, isn't it? I mean, we've been in space for nine years and we're finally going back to Earth."

"This is great!" Chiaotzu grinned and started laughing as he floated around the kitchen cheering.

"We can thank Goku. If it weren't for him we wouldn't be going home already. His instant transmission technique really sped up the process," Tien said. Actually they might not even be halfway done if Goku hadn't been able to skip around solar systems with Krillin and Gohan while the spaceship kept flying through. When Nappa realized the potential use of his instant transmission technique, he started directing Goku's ship to areas with dense concentrations of base planets so he could wipe out large portions of the army in the same amount of time it would take the other teams to clear a single base once time for landing, takeoff, and resetting coordinates was calculated in. Because of Goku, a mission that could have easily taken half a century was completed in less than a decade, and now it was time for the warriors to head home and go on with life with the security of knowing they helped rid the universe of evil that may have set its sights on their home in the future.

Piccolo grunted as he opened his eyes, finally acknowledging the news. He wouldn't say it or show it, but he was as relieved as the others to be returning to Earth. The truth of the matter was, he didn't care for space travel, and nine years of it was more than enough for one lifetime in his opinion.

"How long 'til we get to Earth?" Chiaotzu asked once he was done celebrating.

Tien frowned a little. "Eighteen months."

Chiaotzu's enthusiasm deflated. "Oh. What about the others?"

"Vegeta's ship will take a couple weeks longer to get back to Earth. Goku's will only take nine months."

Without any stops to make – they had no need of more fuel, food, or other supplies – the journey back to Earth was excruciatingly long. Making it worse was the eager anticipation of finally setting foot on their home planet again. The days and weeks crawled by, slowing turning into months until finally they were only a week away from landing.

Piccolo opened his eyes as he finished meditating and smoothly got to his feet, a deep frown forming. "Do you feel that?" he asked Chiaotzu.

The small man looked over at the Namekian and shook his head. "Feel what?"

"That power. It's huge – and evil." Without further explanation he flew up to the upper deck where Tien was training under high gravity. Hardly aware of the added strain on his muscles, Piccolo strode over and stood in front of the captain's seat looking out the window. He couldn't see anything, but he could feel it. Something – someone – was out there moving in the same direction, but their ship was bypassing it.

"What's wrong, Piccolo?" Tien asked when he saw his agitation.

Piccolo looked down at the controls and growled, "Doesn't this thing have some sort of radar or something?"

Tien walked over to the control panel and pushed a few buttons, bringing up the radar screen. They looked up at it and saw that there was, indeed, something moving parallel to their ship at a slower speed. It had to be another ship, but it couldn't be either of the other Capsule Corporation ships; Goku's had already landed on Earth and Vegeta's was still far from their solar system.

"What is that?"

"I don't know," Piccolo answered, "but someone with enormous power is on it. We'd better keep an eye on it in case it's heading for Earth."

"Do you think it is?"

"Do we want to take the chance that it's not?"

Over the next few days the three passengers of the Capsule Corporation ship kept tabs on the unidentified ship. They kept waiting for it to change direction, but it kept moving in the same trajectory, aiming straight for the same destination as them. They had passed by it after only two days, but they didn't have much of a head start in case there was trouble afoot. When they were one day away from Earth they sent a transmission to Capsule Corporation to warn them about the possibility of a hostile visitor.

The next day they landed at Capsule Corporation where they were greeted by Goku and his family, the Briefs, Nappa, and the rest of their friends – Roshi, Oolong, Yamcha, and Puar. Mrs. Brief led them inside for refreshments while Dr. Brief stayed outside to perform maintenance on the ship and capsulate it for storage.

Once they were all seated in the living room of the compound, their mood turned serious as Goku brought up the subject of the mysterious ship nearing Earth. "So what do you know about it?" he asked.

Piccolo's brows furrowed. "Not much, only that I could sense someone aboard is extremely evil and powerful."

"You don't think it's someone from the Cold Empire, do you?" Yamcha asked. He released a deep breath when he saw Piccolo shake his head. As much as he tried to keep up with his training over the past decade, he lacked the motivation and he was much weaker and he doubted he would be much use in a serious battle. Counting on Nappa in case any real threat came to Earth, he unofficially retired from fighting.

Gohan frowned and crossed his arms over his chest as he thought about what their next move should be. "We can use Capsule Corporation's resources to watch for it. If it lands on Earth, we'll know where and we can go and investigate."

"You will do no such thing!" Chi-Chi shrieked. "Gohan, you haven't even been back on Earth for a year yet and you're already trying to play hero! You're in school now, young man, so you can't go gallivanting all over the world anymore!"

The teenager sighed as he nodded. "Fine, Mom, I won't go, but that doesn't mean I can't help them plan what to do."

"What about me? Can I go? I'm not in school yet!"

Chi-Chi looked down at her youngest sternly and shook her head. "Absolutely not, Goten. It's too dangerous."

Piccolo rolled his eyes. "Anyway, the ship will probably be landing within three days."

Goku shrugged. "It's no problem, guys. I'm sure we can handle whatever it is. I don't think we should worry about it. So how about Nappa lets us know when and where it lands and we can go and see who it is? Until then, let's just relax."

After they all agreed with their de facto leader, they turned the topic of conversation to more enjoyable matters, such as training, family life, and getting back into the swing of living on Earth. Mrs. Brief occasionally came in to reimburse their refreshments, encouraging them to have fun in all the compound facilities including the recreation room, swimming pool, and library. It was a great party except for one thing: they were missing the life of the party, their blue-haired friend. No celebration was the same without Bulma Brief in attendance.

Three days later they received word that the ship had landed in a desert wilderness. Leaving his sons behind, Goku left home and was soon joined by Piccolo and Krillin, who were flying in the same direction. It took them nearly three hours to reach the desert, but when they got there, they didn't see anything worth noting. Lots of sand and rocks, but no spaceship. There was a small village nearby bustling with life, nothing out of the ordinary.

"Are you sure this is where Nappa said it landed?" Krillin asked.

"Pretty sure," Goku said.

"Well, that's weird."

"Do you sense any energy?" Piccolo asked.

The others focused on feeling out any nearby energy for a minute, but they both shook their heads. There was nothing.

"I don't like this," the Namekian said.

Goku shrugged and levitated off the ground, ready to leave. "Well, there's nothing here, so I doubt there's anything to worry about. Hey, the World Martial Arts Tournament is in three days. You guys want to come? I wonder if there'll be anyone really strong there."

Krillin grinned. "Yeah, sure."

Piccolo rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he turned his focus back to the desert plain. There was definitely something worth worrying about if what he felt on the way back to Earth was any indication. He could feel it in his bones that something big was amiss, something they would regret ignoring.

"Something is here," he insisted, drawing the other two out of their friendly banter about fighting and winning. "I don't know what it is, but something is here. I think one of us should stay here to keep watch in case anything shows itself."

Goku's expression screwed up with indecision as his gaze moved over the barren land. Really he just wanted to get back to his home at Mount Paozu, train Goten, eat Chi-Chi's cooking, enjoy himself after years of constant work. But then he looked at Piccolo and sighed when he saw his anxious frown. "Okay, Piccolo."

Krillin's head bowed when he realized they would never get a break from fighting evil. "Right. We'll stake out the area."

"Good," Piccolo said, turning into the wind so his cape whipped behind him. "I'm going to take care of something. I'll be back as soon as I can. And don't you dare follow me!"

Goku held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, not following, got it. Yeesh."

Piccolo flew off then, ascending high into the air before heading northeast. The other two watched him until he disappeared, then turned to each other and shrugged. Mutually deciding it was better not to ask, they again started joking about their previous experiences at the World Martial Arts Tournament, oblivious to the evil brewing underground.

As the Namekian headed toward Kami's Lookout, there was only one thing on his mind. Piccolo thought it was time for some rest. After training for two years straight, spending a decade taking down an intergalactic empire headed by three monstrously powerful tyrants, and destroying an army with hundreds of millions of soldiers spanning forty-six galaxies, all he wanted was peace. But he had come to realize that though two indescribably huge threats had been knocked out, there were countless others lurking the universe, seeking a vulnerable planet to enslave or destroy. Earth fit the bill of an inhabitable, weak planet with few defenses, so he knew that he and the other warriors could never lose their vigilance. Perhaps for the first time he fully understood Vegeta's tireless obsession with training and eliminating potential threats. When there were so many unknowns in the universe, why chance it? They couldn't count on fate to always work in their favor, and right now it seemed fate dealt Earth another hard blow that was going to be difficult to overcome.

_A/N: Let me reiterate this: No Sequel. Once this story is finished, it's finished. However, I am considering writing a companion story or two to go with this chapter since it did cover a huge time gap. Honestly, I'm still not completely satisfied with how it's going, but I can probably work it out in the end. Hence the kind of late update... I've been revising the end of this chapter over and over. It's driving me crazy. Heck, I might rewrite it again, I'm not sure. And no, there's not going to be any detailed, hot, or whatever else you describe them as lemons in my story. Even if I wanted to write one, I'm not changing the rating on the whole story because of one scene at the tail end of the whole thing._

_[Mostly] Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl_

_Review!_


	73. Return Home

Return Home

A wave of unease passed over Vegeta before he even felt the retrorockets as his ship descended through Earth's atmosphere. He was, for the first time in over ten years, returning to the planet where he was welcomed, the planet he fought to defend, the planet where he would reside with his mate and son. After hoping for an uneventful return, he found himself growing increasingly agitated as he sought out the ki of the other warriors, all of whom had already come back to Earth. However, he didn't sense them; he sensed some being that was incredibly powerful, far stronger than anything he had ever encountered before.

A shudder ran down his spine all the way to the tip of his tail when the hatch lowered and they were met with a haunting silence. There was none of the normal noise of the city filtering across the compound grounds; it was as if every person in the city was in hiding – or dead. The saiyan prince barely took his first step on the firm ground of Earth after being away for a decade before someone appeared right next to him. Kakarrot. And he looked rather battered and bruised.

"Vegeta, boy am I glad to see you." Goku continued urgently, "There's no time to explain, but I need your help. Everyone else is gone."

Raditz rushed out of the spaceship when he felt his brother's ki, leaving Bulma and Trunks to finish packing everything up alone. "Kakarrot, what's going on?"

Goku looked up at his brother, then silently dismissed him as he turned his attention back to the prince. "You're the only one strong enough to help me beat this thing. Here," he said, holding out a strange earring, "put this on your right ear. It'll fuse our bodies and make us powerful enough to defeat Majin Buu."

"Majin what?" Vegeta asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow as he accepted the earring. He didn't put it on, but examined it closely. "And what do you mean fuse?"

The younger saiyan groaned exasperatedly, bouncing as he struggled to maintain patience. He checked over his shoulder before explaining more thoroughly, "Majin Buu is a monster that was revived a couple days ago and he's killed everyone on the planet. Everyone, Vegeta, except for me. All the others are gone: Gohan, Tien, Yamcha, Nappa… they're dead. And I'm not strong enough to fight this thing alone. Not after he – after he absorbed Gohan."

"What do you mean he absorbed Gohan?" Raditz demanded.

"Look, I really can't explain everything right now!" Goku snapped, balling his hands into fists. "Vegeta, if we fuse, we'll become one person and we'll have the power it takes to defeat this thing. We won't have a chance if we don't do it. Trust me!"

Vegeta shook his head and tossed the earring back to Goku. "No way am I fusing bodies with you, clown. Fuse with Raditz if it's so important."

"But Vegeta! You're stronger than Raditz, and we're definitely going to need all the power we can get. Please!"

Raditz stood next to Vegeta and snatched the earring out of his brother's hand. "I'm not as weak as you think I am, brother. I might not be as strong as Vegeta, but I'm still pretty damn strong. Or did you forget I ascended as well?"

"Well, yeah," Goku said, still clearly not happy. "But have you reached the second level?"

The long-haired saiyan shuffled his feet. "Not yet, no."

"See, that's why I need Vegeta for this one. I'm sorry, Raditz." Goku took the earring back from Raditz and shoved it into Vegeta's hand. "You can try fighting this thing without fusing, but believe me, it won't work. I've tried. And Gohan, he was even stronger than me when Buu absorbed him and stole his power. But if we fuse, we have a chance. It's our _only _chance."

Growling, Vegeta considered crushing the yellow earring in his fist as he flared his ki, almost instantly ascending to super saiyan. "I'm not going to fuse with you, Kakarrot. But I will fight this thing." He turned his gaze to the domed Capsule Corporation building, feeling his rage burning in his chest. Everyone on the planet was dead. Everyone. Nappa and the rest of his pack. The people he fought so hard to protect. Dead before he could return to Earth to save them.

Goku followed Vegeta's gaze and frowned, rubbing the back of his head. "I'm sorry, Vegeta, I tried, but—"

"Sorry isn't good enough," Vegeta snarled. He levitated off the ground as his tail lashed behind him. "Raditz, stay here and keep them from interfering. I'll be back soon."

Raditz nodded, backing away from the other saiyans as they both ascended to the second level, their energy whipping around them and nearly knocking him off his feet before they suddenly disappeared. "Great," he muttered to himself, "what am I supposed to tell Bulma and Trunks? Hey, I know we just got back to Earth, but Vegeta's already gone to fight some incredibly strong monster that has the power to kill him."

He turned to go back inside the ship when Trunks came running out, plowing into him full force. "Where'd my dad go?"

The third-class warrior looked down at the lavender-haired boy and sighed. "Come inside and I'll tell you and your mother what's going on." He put his hand on the boy's shoulder and guided him back inside and down to the lower deck where he found Bulma packing away the furniture she brought from home into capsules.

"There you are, Raditz. I was afraid you were leaving us to clean up by ourselves." She smiled at him and dropped another capsule in a heavily worn pink backpack. "I guess Vegeta's not going to help? You're much more a gentleman than him, honestly. Hey, now that we're back on Earth we need to find you a nice girl so you can start a family of your own."

Raditz laughed nervously as he started emptying the perishable food out of the refrigerator. Choosing to ignore her last comment for the time being, he replied, "Actually, he's not. You see, there seems to be trouble and Kakarrot just came and took him away to help fight a battle."

Bulma paused in her packing. "He's fighting? Already? Raditz, we just got back! Couldn't he have waited just a little while? Honestly!"

"You mean he left without me?" Trunks whined. "I want to fight too! He never lets me fight anyone really strong!"

"I don't think you want to fight in this one, kid," Raditz mumbled. "Maybe it would be better if – if we just left the planet. Again. Just to keep you safe until it's all blown over."

"What?" Bulma shrieked, not caring when both the full-blooded saiyan and her hybrid son covered their ears with their hands. "No way! We just got back five minutes ago! There is _no _way in hell I'm leaving again. Ever! And especially not without Vegeta. Are you crazy?"

Normally Raditz would have backed down after one of Bulma's tirades, but this time he wasn't quite so willing to back down. He could feel the power of the thing Vegeta and Kakarrot were fighting. He could hardly feel their power next to it, and they were both fighting at the level beyond super saiyan! There was no doubt they were going to be crushed. Unless they fused, and as doubtful as it was that Vegeta would let go of his pride long enough to join bodies with a third-class tailless idiot like his brother, he wasn't sure their combined power would be enough to defeat the monster anyway. He slammed the refrigerator door shut, nearly breaking it off, then turned to face Bulma.

"You don't understand!" he shouted. "Whatever Vegeta is fighting has killed everyone. _Everyone! _All your friends, even your parents! They're all dead! And if Piccolo's dead you know there's no dragon balls to wish them back. We have to go to Namek. Vegeta might very well die in this battle. We can't sit around waiting for him to return when we might end up with a confrontation with the thing that killed him instead!"

Bulma took a step back, her hand pressing over her heart. "Dead? My parents? No," she said, shaking her head furiously, "you're wrong! You're wrong, Raditz! And Vegeta can't die. Damnit, we just got home!"

"Mom?" Trunks hurried over to his mother and wrapped his arms around her, as much in an effort to hide his own fear as to comfort her as tears rolled down her flushed cheeks. "Don't worry, I'll go help him! Then he can't lose. Right?"

Raditz turned away and leaned against the counter. He took a deep breath as he rubbed his temples. "It's too dangerous to stay here."

"We can't just leave!" Bulma insisted.

He opened his mouth to reply when his senses were overwhelmed with a power so huge he crumpled to the floor in pain. Hissing, he clutched his head in his hands and looked in the direction of the power, though of course he had no hope of seeing who it was. But he knew. It wasn't the monster whose power he felt beating on his senses since landing. And it wasn't his brother _or _Vegeta. It was someone else entirely, someone much greater than the sum of his parts. This was what Kakarrot meant when he said they would be powerful enough to defeat the Buu creature when if they fused. Apparently Vegeta swallowed his pride – or simply became desperate enough to resort to such a humiliating technique to win.

"What is that?" Trunks asked quietly, eyes wide with awe.

"That," Raditz answered slowly, "is your father and my brother."

"What? What is it, guys?" Bulma asked.

Trunks started jumping up and down excitedly. "Oh, wow! I didn't know Dad was _that_ strong! Awesome!"

Raditz clambered up the ladder to the upper level of the ship and stood at the hatch, bracing himself against the wall as he felt the two colossal powers collide. They were fighting halfway across the planet and he could still feel every blow in his gut as shockwaves shook the Earth to its core and thundered in the sky. It was unreal, and it was terrifying. Powers that huge simply shouldn't exist. He swallowed hard and raked one hand through his hair.

Behind him, Trunks flew up from the lower level and ran over to the hatch, practically trembling with eagerness to fight. He stopped at the open hatch and looked out in the direction Raditz was facing, hoping he could see the raging battle. But all he saw was a clear blue sky. "What's going on, Raditz? Where are they? Can we go watch the fight? Huh? Come on, please?"

"Absolutely not," Raditz answered sternly. "Vegeta would kill me if you got anywhere near that fight, boy."

Trunks scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. Raditz laughed inwardly as he saw the young prince looking like an exact replica of his father. "I bet we could help."

"I don't think they need our help." Raditz stepped back and pushed the button to close the hatch, ready to leave the planet again if he decided it was necessary. He was waiting for some kind of order to be given via his mental link, but there was a strange sense of disconnect from both his brother and his prince, as if neither of them even existed anymore. With Nappa gone as well, he felt strangely alone. It sent a shiver running through his body.

Trunks groaned as he trudged over to the captain's seat to look out the only decent-sized window of the ship. He had yet to actually step outside, not that he minded much. He spent his entire life aboard the little ship aside from stops at various planets where he and his mother would hide out somewhere while his father and Raditz went out to fight soldiers in some evil army. He didn't fully understand the details. But that was the life he knew, and after being promised a stable life where he would be free to go anywhere on the planet he wanted and never be cooped up in a little claustrophobic space again – aside from his bedroom if he got himself grounded or the gravity room when training or being disciplined by Vegeta – he was disappointed that the outside world was closed off to him before he had the chance to explore. And anyway, he really, _really_ wanted to go see the battle his father was fighting.

"So now what?" he grumbled. "We just wait?"

Raditz nodded as he started entering the coordinates to Namek, just in case. He sighed heavily as he stared at the bright red button that would send them to another planet with a simple push. He lived most of his life traveling from planet to planet, first in the saiyan army, then as Frieza's slave, and then to help tear down the empire he helped build. After so many years of travel, the prospect of another trip to another planet and back made him feel weary to the bone. He wasn't sure exactly when it happened, but as of late all he wanted was to settle down somewhere and live life in some semblance of comfort.

Their return to Earth wasn't supposed to be like this. The ship was supposed to touch down in the back yard of the Capsule Corporation where all their friends would be waiting to greet them. Kakarrot and his family as well as the Briefs would welcome them, and they would be treated to an enormous celebratory feast. Trunks would finally get to play with Goten in person and the young prince's grandparents could fawn over the boy they never got to meet before. Raditz could play with his younger nephew, too, and talk with Goku and Gohan when he went to visit them at Mount Paozu. They could finally live in peace any way they wanted with no more threats of apocalyptic proportions knocking on their door.

It was all a fantasy, but reality didn't hit anyone harder than it hit Bulma. No longer interested in packing up, she went over to the ladder to the upper deck and climbed up to join the others. A bolt of panic swept through her when she saw Raditz sitting in the captain's seat while Trunks was sitting on the floor nearby pouting. Not good.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Raditz didn't turn to face her as he answered firmly, "Leaving Earth."

"What? Why? We can't!"

He shook his head as he slammed his hand down on the launch button. "We don't have much choice, Bulma. I thought maybe Kakarrot and Vegeta would have a chance when they fused. But their power just vanished. They're gone, which means it's up to us to go to Namek to wish them and everyone else back. And hopefully Earth will still be here when we get back."

Bulma ran over to him and clung to the seat as the rockets fired up and she felt the familiar lurch as the spaceship blasted into the sky headed for another destination that took her away from home. Understanding Raditz's decision to leave didn't make it any easier to accept. She was livid with him for leaving before they had a chance to confirm Vegeta's death. She always thought she would know if he was gone, sure that she would feel something in her heart. But she never felt anything, and believing she was leaving him to die alone left a bitter taste in her mouth as she looked out the window and saw the blue marble becoming smaller with each passing second until finally it was a tiny speck of light that sank into the darkness of space.

"I can't believe this is happening," she whispered.

Raditz finally turned, a deep frown etched on his face. "I'm sorry, Bulma. I would have given anything to stay and help them fight if I thought it would have done any good, but it wouldn't. And you know as well as I do that there aren't any dragon balls on Earth anymore, so we need to get to Namek and undo this."

"I know, Raditz, I understand," she assured him. "At least it'll only take a week to get there. I don't think I could stand a longer trip. Oh Kami, how could this have happened? Not even back an hour and Vegeta already got himself killed!"

"He's not dead, Mom," Trunks said from his place on the floor. He glared at the two adults for even suggesting such an impossible thing.

Bulma smiled sadly and nodded, a small flame of hope rekindled. If Trunks didn't believe it either, maybe it wasn't true. Maybe Vegeta _was_ still alive, somehow. Wouldn't at least one of them have felt him leave this dimension? She just couldn't shake the thought that they would know if he were truly gone. And her thoughts were confirmed when, barely an hour later, she felt like a part of her heart had been ripped out as her mate left the plane of the living.

…

Vegeta blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the strange light of a new planet. He was standing in an open area with lush green grass with soft blades bending in a faint breeze. The sky was a darker blue than Earth, as if it were constant twilight, and here there were dozens of moons in various phases glowing dimly. Turning around, he saw a single tree, and under it sat an old man with pale purple skin, a shock of white hair, and a few white hairs on his upper lip. In front of him lay a crystal ball showing what looked like a roiling mass of chewed-up bubblegum floating in space. He was hardly able to stay standing as his knees buckled when he saw it. Buu was there, alive, and the Earth was gone.

Dazed, he half-stumbled over to the tree and knelt down in front of the crystal ball, watching as Buu used instant transmission to move to another planet and subsequently blew it up. He groaned when he saw Buu disappear, no doubt teleporting to the next unsuspecting planet.

The prince didn't bother turning when he heard the other three come up behind him to look over his shoulders at the crystal ball. Kibitoshin, Goku, and Gohan gasped when they saw the destruction. After watching helplessly as Buu obliterated a few more planets, Vegeta stood up and clenched his hands into fists at his sides. That hideous thing killed everyone he cared about, and he was sitting there watching as it continued its mindless rampage. Everyone was gone: Nappa, Raditz, Mrs. Brief, Dr. Brief, Bulma, even Trunks. There was nothing he could do to save them. And there was no time to get Raditz and his family off the planet before it was blown up. He glared down at the crystal ball as it showed Buu appear on yet another planet he didn't recognize.

"Oh no!" Kibitoshin exclaimed, "He's in Otherworld! I think he's searching for you. That's the Grand Kai's planet."

"He's in Otherworld?" Vegeta muttered as his thoughts started racing. If Buu was in this dimension, they had the chance to take another crack at him. And now, without Gohan's power, he was surely weaker. Without fusing they would surely have a chance against him. Smirking, he whirled around and stalked away from the tree. "Kakarrot! Brat! If we raise our power he'll come right to us."

"What do you mean?" Goku asked.

"He's searching for the highest energy," Vegeta explained. "So we'll lead him to us."

"Good idea," Gohan said as he came over to where the prince was standing. He spread his feet and started raising his power slowly at first, then like a whirlwind it rushed through him and exploded in a blazing aura of energy. He was soon joined by Vegeta, and finally his father. The three saiyans raised their power to new heights, each having recovered from near-death experiences, each burning with barely suppressed rage and sorrow for the death of their loved ones.

They didn't have to wait long before Buu popped up in front of them, laughing maniacally when he saw them. Ignoring him, the warriors pushed their ki higher, each more than ready to exact revenge on the pink creature. Goku was the first to feel himself reaching a new plateau, as if there was another level just a bit higher, just out of reach. Searching within himself, he discovered a deep well of primal power deeper than any he'd drawn from before, and, delving into it, he felt a new surge of energy spreading into every cell, changing his body as it grew. With a feral roar he completed his transformation, his ascension to yet a higher level.

Vegeta felt Goku's power erupt and felt a vague sense of jealousy, but he wasn't far behind. There was a dull throbbing sensation pulsating in his tail, sending ripples of beastly power up his spine and into his entire body. He felt almost as if he was about to transform into the oozaru; only the lack of blutz waves held him back from transforming, but even without it his power was nearly equal Goku's. He opened his eyes, two pools of icy cobalt, and scowled at Buu with an intensity that would have stricken a weaker opponent with paralyzing terror.

Gohan finished powering up almost the same time as Vegeta and looked up at his father and the prince, eyes widening when he saw them. Goku had hair almost as long as Raditz's, dark blue eyes, and a prominent brow ridge. His aura swelled and billowed around him as if his body was trying and couldn't contain his raw power. Vegeta hadn't changed so much, the only notable physical difference his eye color and the bolts of electricity surrounding his body were larger and lit up his golden aura farther from his body than before. That, and his very skin seemed to be glowing as though he were in the middle of a drastic transformation that he couldn't complete.

"Better get off this planet," Vegeta growled to the two kais still standing under the tree.

Trembling, the two kais nodded and, as soon as Elder Kai picked up his crystal ball, Kibitoshin grabbed his arm and they disappeared to go to another planet for safety while the saiyans battled the seemingly invincible Buu.

"So how are we going to do this?" Goku asked once the kais were gone. Nearly forgetting the threat standing close by, the three saiyan warriors started a game of rock-paper-scissors to determine who would get to fight Buu first.

With three incredibly strong and absolutely furious saiyans lined up and ready to fight, Buu never really had a chance. As soon as one tired, another would step in and try his hand at defeating him while the other recovered his strength. Goku was the first to drop out of the fight completely, his body unable to sustain the new transformation long enough to defeat Buu. Still, his help made a significant impact on Buu, who was no longer able to regenerate as quickly. Minutes dragged by like years as Vegeta was next to take on Buu, starting his fight with a powerful flurry of ki attacks that blew the magical creature apart time and time again, only to have him come together again.

Not willing to stand down, Vegeta continued fighting long after he was knocked back into his base form, his life nearly being beaten out of him as he rose again each time he was slammed into the ground with merciless strength. Strangled, beaten, shocked, cut, nothing could keep the saiyan prince down. If anything, it seemed his endurance only grew with each blow that landed on his battered body. His rage built until he felt he would burst as he faced his inevitable defeat at the hands of the monster that took the only lives he valued.

Eventually, though, he was knocked out cold and it was up to Gohan to defeat the hideous creature. Flaring his ki with a show of confident power, the demi-saiyan stepped over Vegeta's fallen body, mentally noting that he would have to keep the fight a safe distance away so the saiyan prince wasn't hurt further in the ensuing battle. By now Buu was much weaker, though still a dangerous adversary. Gohan clenched his hands into fists and phased over to the monster, kicking his head so hard it spun around without his body following suit. Then, before he could straighten himself, Gohan fired a massive beam of ki at him from above, blasting him into millions of pieces yet again.

With his full potential unlocked, Gohan was unstoppable. Filled with raging fury over the death of his little brother, mother, uncle, mentor, and friends, his power was still steadily increasing even as he fought, pouring enough energy into each attack to consume the planet a dozen times over. Even seeing his father crouching on the sideline panting heavily as blood seeped from the burns and cuts marring his body made Gohan's drive to kill the insane monster greater until he was fully on the offense and giving Buu not a second to recover from each blow. His speed increased along with his strength, enabling him to evade everything Buu threw at him with ease. Almost losing himself to arrogant pride, he found himself drawing the fight out when he could have finished Buu off once his powers of regeneration were almost entirely depleted and his attacks were sloppy and sluggish with fatigue.

"Finish it, Gohan!" Goku shouted when he saw what was happening. "Now's your chance!"

Gohan glanced over at his father, now crawling over to help Vegeta who had regained consciousness a few minutes earlier, and scowled. He didn't want to end the fight. He wanted Buu to suffer for all the damage he'd done, for all the people he'd hurt, all the lives he'd taken. Was that so wrong? Wasn't it justice for him to hurt, to feel the kind of suffering he invoked in each of his victims as he ruthlessly and senselessly tortured them?

Vegeta coughed violently as Goku pulled him into a sitting position. With a shaky hand he reached up and wiped blood out of his eyes before looking over at the fight to watch as Gohan continued beating Buu with an unexpected cruelty. Initial shock gave way to pride; though only half saiyan, it seemed Gohan still had saiyan instinct and his current behavior was almost purely governed by that instinct, the need to avenge and protect his pack. But soon he saw the same thing as Goku had already: Gohan's power was starting to decline, and before long it would drop off the charts, leaving Buu with the advantage once more.

"Brat!" he yelled, nearly ascending back to super saiyan as his anger flooded through him, "Kill him now before your idiocy allows him to win!"

Gohan looked over again, his mouth tightening into a firm line as he became more than slightly perturbed by the interruptions to his fight. Then, turning back to Buu, he made it obvious he was ignoring the others as he hit Buu with two weak balls of ki that left him staggering to stay on his feet but did little real damage. Jumping over the small creature, Gohan whirled around and kicked him into a previously crumbled canyon wall far from his father and Vegeta.

Vegeta growled when he saw Gohan's disobedience. "Fine then. Kakarrot, we're going to have to stop him before he's defeated."

"Yeah, I know," Goku agreed. Then, mustering the portion of power he'd recovered since his fight with Buu ended, he ascended to the first level of super saiyan and stood up on wobbly legs. Energy wove into each muscle fiber, but he still felt weak, as if he were barely clinging to the transformation and ready to fall back into his base form unconscious.

Vegeta also rose to his feet and groaned as his ki burned when he pushed it to achieve the ascension to super saiyan. Though substantially weaker than Goku now, he was the first to take off for the battle to try and force Gohan to finish Buu off while he had the chance. He had no doubt it was a brief window of opportunity that would soon slip away if Gohan didn't seize it.

Jumping into the fray while Gohan was digging his way out of a pile of rocks that cascaded down over him when he was thrown into the same canyon wall he kicked Buu into earlier, Goku kicked Buu in the face and infused his hand with ki to form a sort of blade as he chopped his neck, decapitating him. Obviously that wasn't enough to kill the gum-like monster, but it was a serious enough wound that it would keep him down for a few seconds at least. Goku then leaped out of the way as a beam of blue ki came barreling through the narrow canyon and collided with the remains of Buu's body, blasting him into hundreds of thousands of pieces.

By then Gohan had extracted himself from the rubble and lowered himself to his fighting stance as he waited for Buu to reform himself. "What are you doing?" he snarled.

"You have to end this while you can," Goku insisted.

"I want to make him pay!"

"Don't be a fool, boy," Vegeta spat as he flew over to them and landed behind the demi-saiyan. "I don't give a damn about mercy, but you know as well as I that your power is falling and soon he'll be able to beat you into the dirt."

Tempted as he was to ignore the more experienced warriors, Gohan forced himself to focus on his own ki and finally realized what they knew all along: instead of growing stronger, he was rapidly becoming weaker. Looking over at the writhing glob of pink flesh, he nodded. Sighing, he told them, "I'll end it now. Don't worry."

Vegeta huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he levitated off the ground to get a safe distance away from the upcoming finishing blow. "Assuming you're still strong enough."

Goku cast Vegeta a hateful glare as he passed by him to wait for the battle to end, not appreciating the prince doubting his son. They landed under the same tree where the old kai sat earlier watching events unfold through his crystal ball. Vegeta was surprised as he watched Gohan gathering energy in his hands for a kamehameha wave that he wasn't more bitter about not being the one to deal the coup de grace. Sure, he wanted the satisfaction of vengeance for the lives of his pack, but he found that it was more important to him for Buu to die by any means than for him to die by his hand. A strange sort of peace crept into his mind as he watched Gohan rising off the ground and chanting the name of the powerful technique he learned from his father.

"It isn't going to be enough," Goku hissed.

"What do you mean it isn't going to be enough?"

"Feel it, Vegeta! There isn't a huge difference, but Gohan's power is already below Buu's. He isn't going to be able to kill him. We need to help him, now!"

Vegeta's eyes narrowed for a second as he focused on the power difference between Buu and Gohan. His lips turned down in a frown when his senses confirmed what Goku said. "Kakarrot, attack from the top of that ridge over there."

Goku looked over where Vegeta was pointing and nodded, powering up as he took off for the ridge. Landing, he cupped his hands at his side and started gathering energy for his own kamehameha wave. Meanwhile, Vegeta flew over to the opposite side of Buu so they were forming a triangle around him, each out of the line of fire in case anyone's attack missed. Vegeta took longer to summon his energy, spreading his arms out to the sides and guiding his power to the core of his being, then moving his arms straight in front of him with his hands together and facing away from him, the power he gathered now flowing into a growing orb in his hands.

Gohan, having seen the others joining him to help eliminate the monster, held his attack until they were all ready to fire. Surprisingly, Buu was taking long enough to regenerate himself that they had enough time without having to worry about him relocating or dodging before their ki beams could converge on him. Nodding to the others, Gohan released his beam of ki as he shouted, "Ha!"

"Final Flash!"

"Kamehameha!"

Two waves of brilliant blue power rocketed toward Buu simultaneously with a beam of yellow energy. For a split second there was silence, then a massive shockwave led an explosion with a slight green tint that sent the saiyans spinning out of control away from the point of impact. They landed on the ground hundreds of feet from the explosion and rolled across the quaking ground, bits of debris battering them and cutting into their skin. There was no way Buu was recovering from that attack. Each saiyan's wave of energy had anger, hatred, and grief poured into it, magnifying the raw power until it consumed even the tiniest shreds of the monster's body.

…

Bulma strapped herself into the captain's seat of the spaceship as she prepared for touchdown. She sighed as she felt the ship bouncing and shaking as it entered the planet's atmosphere and the retrorockets started up to slow their descent. When they were safely on the ground, she unbuckled the safety belt and pushed the button to open the hatch, calling for Raditz and Trunks to come up from the lower deck. She clutched the dragon radar she brought along as a 'just-in-case' in her hand and walked to the open hatch to look at the alien landscape. It was backwards from Earth, with short blue grass and pure green water cutting through the dry land. The sky was a brighter shade of green with three suns hanging in the sky. It wasn't home, and it made her sick.

She didn't notice Raditz was standing next to her until he said, "I don't believe it. Trunks, do you feel that?"

The lavender-haired boy, who was standing between them, looked up at the saiyan inquisitively before looking back out over the strange land with an expression of intense concentration. Then he broke into a huge grin and jumped into the air, giving a whoop of excited celebration. "Yeah, it's Dad!"

"Huh?" Bulma looked at her son and Raditz, extremely confused. "What do you mean it's Dad? How could he be _here_?"

"Simple, really," she heard the husky voice of her mate drawl, "Kakarrot and I have been waiting for you to arrive here for four days."

"Vegeta? Where are you?" she squealed, running out of the ship and looking all around. Her heart hammered in her chest as she searched for him, not even thinking to look up.

"Hey, Bulma!"

Finally, she tilted her head back and saw the two saiyans hovering in the air above the Capsule Corporation ship. At first she stared at them with her mouth gaping open, unable to believe they were really there, in the flesh. "But you were – we thought you had – what are you doing here? You can't be!"

They finally landed at the bottom of the open hatch. Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest with a mischievous smirk while Goku grinned and rubbed the back of his head. "Stop your babbling, woman," Vegeta purred.

"Dad! You're okay!" Trunks vaulted over to his father and nearly knocked him over as he embraced him. "I knew you couldn't die. No stupid monster would ever be strong enough to hurt you!"

"Yes, son," Vegeta said proudly, gently patting his son's back before pulling him off and setting him on the ground. Then he turned to Raditz, who had just capsulated the spaceship and tucked it in his pocket. He hid it well, but he was as much in shock as Bulma when he saw both his brother and his prince alive and well – and on Namek.

"Vegeta, I'm glad to see you're well," he muttered stupidly.

The prince snorted with amusement. _"Thank you, Raditz."_

_ "For what?"_

_ "Keeping them safe. I was afraid they were killed when Buu destroyed Earth."_

Raditz's eyes widened. "He destroyed Earth?" he blurted.

"What?" Bulma shrieked.

Vegeta sighed, nodding. "That's why we're here now, woman. We couldn't return to Earth because it is no longer there. But we've gathered the dragon balls and we will wish Earth back along with everyone Buu killed."

"Oh Kami, I can't believe it," she breathed. "Good thing Raditz made us leave before that happened. Man…"

"Hn." Vegeta picked Bulma up and levitated off the ground. "Kakarrot's brat is in the village with the eldest Namek where the dragon balls are gathered. We decided to wait for you to arrive before making the wishes."

"Oh, wow, that's great! You already have them!" Bulma gave a sigh of relief and laughed as she held onto Vegeta when they started flying toward the village.

It didn't take long to cross half the planet where they landed in a small village filled with Namekians of all ages. In the center of the group stood a very old Namekian wearing a red vest. At his side stood another Namekian who appeared to be a teenager, close to Gohan's age. He was wearing a white robe with a long red vest over it. Seeing their arrival, the Namekians parted for them to come forward to where the dragon balls were gathered on the ground, shining with a warm orange glow. Gohan emerged from one of the white buildings holding one last dragon ball, the one-star ball. He grinned and waved when he saw his uncle, Bulma, and Trunks with his father and Vegeta.

"Gohan!" Trunks yelled as he broke ranks with his parents and raced over to the older demi-saiyan, enveloping him in a hug nearly as strong as the one he gave his father.

"Hey, Trunks," Gohan said, smiling as he shifted the large ball to one hand so he could hug back with the other.

Finally, the last ball was united with the others and they were ready to summon the dragon to get Earth and all its inhabitants back. The old Namekian, who introduced himself as Moori, gave the teenage Namekian a gentle nudge and an encouraging nod toward the dragon balls, giving him the honor of raising the dragon and speaking the wishes.

"Go on, Dende," Gohan said, patting the young Namekian on the shoulder. "We're counting on you to get our home back."

"Don't count on me," Dende replied humbly, "Leave that to Porunga."

"Get on with it already!" Vegeta snapped.

Smiling apologetically, Dende raised his hands over the dragon ball and started speaking his native language. Then, as they had seen on Earth so many times before, the sky darkened to black, lit only by lightning until a coiling ray of light rose out of the dragon balls and took the form of a dragon, much larger than Shenron and at least ten times more terrifying.

"What's your first wish?" Dende asked when the dragon was ready to grant their wishes.

Gohan answered, "Wish for all the planets to be restored to the way they were before Majin Buu destroyed them."

Nodding, Dende turned back to Porunga and made the wish in Namekian. A few moments later the dragon's eyes glowed and he told them, "It is done. Name your next wish."

Dende looked to Gohan expectantly, waiting for him to tell him how to word the second wish. Gohan rubbed the back of his neck as he contemplated who to bring back. "I don't think we'll get the dragon balls back on Earth if we wish Piccolo back this time. When he fused with Kami they became inert. So who do we wish back? There's only two wishes left."

Moori started laughing when he heard the dilemma the saiyan-human hybrid was having. "Don't worry about the old rules," he told Gohan. "When I became the elder I gave Porunga the power to bring back an unlimited number of lives with one wish. It seemed like a good idea after what happened with Frieza."

"You're kidding!" Gohan exclaimed. "Great! Dende, wish for everyone Majin Buu killed to be brought back to life except for all the really, really bad ones."

While Dende made the wish and they waited for Porunga to complete the wish, Gohan turned to the others and shrugged. "So what else do we ask for? There's one more wish and that covers everything we need."

"I say we wish ourselves back to Earth!" Bulma suggested. "I'm tired of this space travel crap."

Raditz shrugged one shoulder. "We could. It would save us from having to take the ship back or have Kakarrot take us with IT."

"What's wrong with IT?" Goku asked.

Raditz's cheeks flushed a little. "It's a little, er, disorienting."

"So are we going to have to come all the way to Namek every time we need to make a wish?" Gohan asked.

Goku nodded before his face lit up. "Hey, maybe not!" Without explaining, he strode over to Moori and told him, "So the Earth is in need of a new guardian since ours fused with one of our friends. Do you think anyone here would be interested in the job? It would be great if we could have a set of dragon balls on Earth too."

"Amazing," Vegeta remarked snidely, "Kakarrot had a good idea for once."

Moori smiled and guided the young Namekian Dende over to Goku, assuring him, "Dende would make a fine guardian. He's never made dragon balls before, but I think he'll do just fine."

"This is great!" Gohan said. "Dende, you do want to come to Earth with us, don't you?"

Dende smiled a little at Gohan. They had quickly formed a friendship when Gohan came with Goku years ago to wish Chi-Chi back from Otherworld. Leaving his home world would be hard, but he was glad that he was going somewhere where he would be with friends and could do good and create his own set of dragon balls. "Yes, I'd like to come and be the Guardian of Earth, if that's okay, that is."

"I'm sure Mr. Popo will be happy to have a new guardian," Goku said. "So, I guess for our last wish we want to go back to Earth."

"Okay," Dende said, but before he translated the wish into Namekian for Porunga, he went back over to Moori and some of the other villagers to say his goodbyes, certain he would probably never see them again unless some dire circumstances brought them together again. Finally, after his hasty farewells, he addressed Porunga and stated their last wish. As he spoke, Bulma wrapped her arms around Vegeta and rested her head on his shoulder. She closed her eyes and waited a few seconds, then opened her eyes and gasped when she saw she was in a forest of trees with green leaves and a bright blue sky above. Earth.

Ignoring the others around him, Vegeta picked up Bulma and gestured for his son to follow as he took to the air and headed southeast toward West City. Back to the Capsule Corporation, back to his pack. Finally, after a decade, after countless battles, after tearing down an empire, after traveling to Otherworld and back again, he was finally on his way to the compound to stay. It wasn't until he landed on the front lawn of the compound and looked up at the yellow domed building that he was sure he wasn't dreaming. He set Bulma down on her feet and stood there silently for a few minutes, gazing at the building where his pack lived.

Finally, he relented to her tugging on his hand and followed her into the compound. The scent of chocolate cupcakes baking was already wafting into the front hall from the kitchen and he could hear a small blast from the door that led to Dr. Brief's basement laboratory. They were here, alive. He could hardly understand the relief that swept over him when he knew without a doubt that the dragon managed to bring them back.

"Mom! Dad!" Bulma called. "We're home!"

Trunks shuffled his feet nervously as he waited for the grandparents he never met in person to show themselves. All he knew about them was the stories his parents and Raditz told him during their travels through space, as well as a few brief conversations via video communicators on the ship. He thought he would like them, but there was no way of knowing until he actually spent some time with them. He did know already he liked the smell of his grandmother's cooking, and he definitely liked their house. It was huge, roomy, and comfortable, definitely a contrast to the spaceship he grew up in. He jumped, startled, when the first door on the left flew open and a slim woman with a pile of blonde curls on her head ran out and rushed over to them, first hugging Bulma, then his father – also planting a kiss on his cheek – and then him.

"Oh, my, you're just adorable!" Mrs. Brief squealed, dabbing at the tears in her eyes with a handkerchief she pulled out of her apron pocket. "I'm so happy you're finally home!"

"Hi, Grandma," Trunks mumbled, a blush of embarrassment tinting his cheeks.

She was still gushing over her grandson when Dr. Brief came up from his laboratory and shuffled over to the small family. Vegeta noticed that he moved slower and his graying hair was more white. Scratch, the little black cat that always sat upon his shoulder, was still there, though she, too, looked older. It was strange that they seemed to age the full ten years, but Mrs. Brief appeared as young as ever, hardly a wrinkle on her pretty face, wearing a green sundress with white polka dots and a frilly, pale yellow apron tied around her waist. She hadn't changed a bit since the last time he saw her.

"Bulma, dear, you're looking well," Dr. Brief said as he hugged his daughter, holding her longer than he normally did. Finally, he pulled back and moved over to Vegeta, shaking his hand first, then going in for a hug as he decided it was more appropriate. "You haven't aged a day, son."

Finally, with cracking knees and a soft groan, Dr. Brief knelt down in front of Trunks and rested on hand on his shoulder. "And you must be Trunks," he said. "My, you must be nearly nine years old now. It's good to finally have you home." That said, he pulled Trunks into a hug and stroked his lavender hair affectionately.

"So where's my room?" Trunks asked once he untangled himself from his grandfather's arms.

Bulma chuckled as she took her son's hand and led him to the stairs to show him where he would be living from now on. His grandparents followed after them, asking a myriad questions and making countless comments about how well Bulma looked, how much Trunks resembled his father, and how the company was doing, both updating them on the news of Earth while begging for news of the universe and stories of their finished expedition.

After they were gone, Nappa walked out of the living room and went over to his prince, resting his hand on his shoulder as he followed his gaze to the stairs, silently showing he was happy to have him back, content to let the family reunite without his interference. Vegeta stood in the hall, unmoving, as he watched his pack disappear up the stairs, chatting happily as if they had been together for the past decade. Then he felt it again, the dread that came with absolute _freedom_. But that dread was soon squelched by the overwhelming peace that blossomed in his mind. There he stood, shadowed by the pride of his bodyguard and longstanding father figure, the smell of Mrs. Brief's cooking, the sounds of a happy family just around the corner. Two times he had left this place for space, seeking to destroy the creatures who tormented him. It was the third time he stood in that hall after landing on Earth. And this time, he knew he belonged here with everyone he held dear, and he would never leave it again.

Memories flashed through his mind of the first time he met Bulma, of her first invitation for him to come stay at Capsule Corporation. Back when he was a lost, homeless orphan stranded on an alien planet with no one to help him, no one to care for him. He returned years later, a desperate, homeless slave clawing for a way out of his living hell. Now here he stood in the hall after his last long journey, at peace. Through his time here, he had built many memories, forged unbreakable bonds with others, and learned to trust and love.

This place wasn't just a building anymore, a place where he could reside. After searching for thirty-seven years, he had finally found home.

_A/N: The End._

_Story stats at time of posting:_

_Chapters: 73  
><em>_Words: 503,232  
><em>_Reviews: 1,963  
><em>_Hits: 127,241  
><em>_Favorites: 198_

_Other notes for anticipated questions: Goku and Vegeta both reached SSJ2 through training over the years. Goku ascended to SSJ3 because he had the strength and motivation, and in my theory, a saiyan can only reach the third level if he has no tail and is in a different dimension (Otherworld or Hyperbolic Time Chamber, for example). Vegeta, having a tail, could not reach SSJ3, but he did have the strength required to reach SSJ4 – he just lacked the required blutz waves to transform into the golden oozaru and subsequently SSJ4. Gohan was stronger than both of them once Old Kai unlocked his true potential power. As mentioned in the last chapter, I might write companion stories for the battles that were mostly glossed over. Maybe._

_I'd like to sincerely thank everyone who has reviewed this story, added it to a favorites or alert list, or simply enjoyed reading it. Congratulations for sticking it out through the end! It means a lot to me when I know my story brings enjoyment to others._

_Here I present a challenge to my readers: Not only would I like you to review this chapter, but I'm curious to know what your favorite chapter of the story was (and why). If you wouldn't mind taking the time, now or sometime later, would you kindly review your favorite chapter and tell me why it's your favorite? It would be extremely useful information as I continue writing stories. If you can't review a chapter because you already have, it would suffice to provide the information in a review to this chapter. Or a private message if you're shy about sharing your opinion. Thank you so much for taking a minute of your day to share your thoughts with me._

_And one last special thanks to my beta-reader, lilpumpkingirl. You've stuck with me since chapter 35 and provided invaluable help correcting errors and developing the plot. You have my deepest gratitude for your input and patience with me through it all._


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